Philosophy of Rain

This weather has put me in a contemplative state. Or maybe it was walking into the closet door the other day that threw my thoughts around a bit. There's an irony to our best-laid plans of what we will make ourselves to be, our plans of success and fulfillment, and then the reality of being a puny speck on a planet in a corner of the universe.

I wonder how much the color of my room affects me. It's pink. I wouldn't have painted it pink, I probably would have made it blue. If it were blue, I wonder how much lonelier it would make me feel. Because I like blue, but it's apparently a lonely color.

Some great poetical lines from a Teitur song:

There comes a time

When you must stay in the moment

Though your heart is bleeding

And there comes a time

When you must walk away

Though your heart's still beating...

All my mistakes have become masterpieces.  

The Heart of the Sailor

The Ocean, it is pulling me off the shore. How badly I want to go with her and learn her secrets. Ever since I was a child she has called to me like a siren with alluring sunsets, bright sunrises and a calming voice echoing with the waves. She holds everything I need to live, but also possesses a finicky temper that could kill me without a thought. I have no desire to conquer her, for I believe that to be impossible. I only want to know her, to understand her complexities and her moods.

There are other things I love in this earth, but none that demand my heart like the Sea. It is as if I am left with no choice but to pursue her until my last breath has been drawn from me. It is hard to believe that she will allow me human love either, for she possesses other hearts as well. Perhaps we are meant to be fellow slaves to the same end, ceaselessly striving to understand that incredible force of nature, that Ocean...

That Feeling When...

New sheets make sleep amazing. A good session makes one stoked. Hitting every single note at the right time makes the music come alive. Catching the best ride yet causes euphoria. Watching an infant makes one appreciate our inherent capacity to learn. Sunsets make me dream of distant horizons. Wind makes me want to go sailing. Love makes my head spin.  

Introspective People Watching

It's a strange sort of day
An odd day to sit on a cold bench
But the weather is not exactly cold
And people's ant-like lives
Are so infinitely interesting to watch.

Preoccupied, a man walks by
Coffee in hand, with suit and tie
A girl and boy in dialogue
But she looks down
And he talks to the fog.

It's on the hour
The crowd streams past
Individuals, hopelessly disconnected
You may be important in your virtual world
But from 100 feet up you are an ant.

What if a piano fell from the sky
Or a hole sunk into the earth
Well it wouldn't matter if it were your neighbor
But that's just another wonder of our evolving culture.

Time winds on...

Crank, crank, crank...

I am extremely grateful to Rimsky-Korsakov for orchestrating many works by other Russian composers that would otherwise fall beyond the edge of gnarly and well into the realm of insanity. That being said, there is still much chromaticism to conquer... onward my brave stragglers of the community orchestra, that notable band...

Sarcasm seems to be reigning supreme this weekend. As well as bad humor.

"I used to work at a fire hydrant factory. It was terrible. You couldn't park anywhere near the place."

 "My dog has no nose." 
       -"Oh really? How does he smell?"
"Awful!"

"I never could believe in Santa Claus, because no white dude would ever go near my neighborhood after dark."

"Cruisers' plans are carved in Jell-O."

"It's hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning."

A Story Waiting to be Written

I usually am inspired to express myself in writing, but lately I've been using other mediums. Anyhow.

Dropped the business class! I feel a little pressure relieved... This thing should be totally doable now. "Should" being the operative word here. I'd really like to do Nano again this year, so we'll see how doable that turns out to be. I even have an idea if I do Nano.

This box of books ended up in the Word Shop. That wasn't the remarkable thing; there are multitudes of boxes that end up in the shop in any given month. There was a small book lying amongst a bunch of other old musty books, and Alliee set it in front of me as she rooted through the box. The book had a navy cover with a yellow poppy on the front. It was a book of poems in German about California. The first page was autographed by the author and looked like it had originally been given to a friend. The poems had been written between 1898 and 1906 and were organized according to subject - Yosemite, Love Songs, Nature Songs... As I thumbed through the timeworn pages regretting my poor recollection of college German, a photograph fell out. It was a small one, apparently taken with a Brownie camera. There were 3 men in the photo with a dog. After a detailed discussion with Justin about the many small things we picked out in the photo, we decided it was probably taken in the 1930's. Another thing that was hidden in the book was a pressed carnation. Most intriguing.

A Piece of Blue Sky...

It's clouded back over today. Not really what I wanted, but I suppose I can deal with it. I'm going to start working on German again. I don't know exactly why, I'd just hate to lose it all. The last few days it started uncovering itself in my mind and I'd try to remember the words and phrases for things. I forgot the word for Table - can't believe that- Der Tisch...

New-to-me cd of Yiruma, First Love. I like his creativity, but I almost wish he'd follow through with the Inevitability and let the ideas develop a little more. No need for new material, but just let the Inevitability work itself out and escape near-repetition. Unfortunately, most of the jacket is in Korean... one of the few parts in English is a poem he wrote:

When the love falls in your dream,
the time flows like a river in you.
When you're in love,
that is the time when the night falls.
But I wish you wait until the morning comes.
I've finally found you.

I was having this discussion of sorts with a friend about the importance of romance in a love story. It would be an interesting love story that had no romance in it, but wouldn't it be rather dry? It would just be so much work. Which was his point. I can see how that would be useful, but how is it realistic? True, our imaginations conjure up more romance than there actually is, but how could a love story exist without it? Every beautiful action taken in love is how it makes itself known. Those are the things you notice, and then you realize it's presence and it is an exquisite moment. It's true I am a romantic, so I suppose I should stop arguing and realize that the Romantic era is technically past with impressionism and and huge emotional paintings. Somehow the ideas still live on, though. With certain individuals who can't reconcile themselves to this age of technological advancement...   

A Change in the Wind

The past six months I've come to realize that virtually everything is perspective. I'm not sure how to explain it, but something to the effect of "one man's hell is another man's heaven." I suppose attitude has something to do with it certainly, but some situations can either be great or terrible depending on your perspective and what you want out of life. Some of us are so wrapped up in this need for security that we lose sight of all the experiences we could be having when we're working to keep that security. And then others of us are so far the other way that we stop trying to plan for the future. There has to be a fine medium in there somewhere, but where and how do you grasp it?

I just started Voyaging Southward from the Strait of Magellan by Rockwell Kent, which is proving quite interesting. He includes this bit by Bayard Boyesen after the introduction, rather intriguing:

Over the Ultimate

Who asks when
We that have done with doing and the blood-red tides of men
    Shall hold fast
    Ourselves at last?
Who cares when?

We that have dived o'er the morning and the thither sides of night,
What delight?
    Should we have your traces,
    Times and places -
What delight?

Ye that are day-things,
    Reckoners of north and south,
       Of great things ruinous;
      What should ye know of us,
Us that have stars for our playthings,
    Yea, stars that browse on our mouth?

What life saith,
    Shall we care,
We that have juttied through death
    And despair?

We that have joked with the mountain gales
    And sent them rattling home,
We that have held the morning's sails
    O'er the foam?
    Yet laughing at sails and mornings, all things that are still or roam?

What life saith
    Of its strife,
    Shall we care?
We that have juttied through death
    And despair,
  Yea, and life!
      Shall we care?
      Of what shall we care?

Dreams

I don't get the impact of women's choirs. Men's choirs are powerful and deep in tone, children's choirs are sweet and innocent, boy's choirs are sonorous and emotionally moving. But women's choirs? The deep tone that is meant to reside in the bassline is lost in the difficult range of the alto voice; the notes below middle C do not have the resonance they might if they were sung by a tenor.

Besides my initial dislike of the blend of voices in a women's choir, the text of this particular piece, The Beauty of Your Dreams, is decidedly lacking. It's extracted from a single quote, which perhaps isn't the exact problem. The song builds in tonal depth as phrases are repeated, in what I think is generally called a more pointillistic approach. But the actual text does not build in depth, and it fails to inspire me. It talks about believing in your dreams, casting out fear, and facing the unknown. Unfortunately it doesn't explain how to cast out fear or where that strength eminates from. What if your dreams are not philanthropic? What if your dreams are ugly? Of course the philosophical perspective of extreme humanism it comes from is rather radical (that would be dictionary-definition of 'radical,' not slang for 'cool'). I mean, for this text to be inspiring you'd have to believe we all have wonderful dreams to create a better society for all humanity, that we have minimal evil intentions and are not swayed by greed or lust, and apparently we have super powers for facing fear and conquering the unknown. It's just not realistic enough to pull your heart strings or strike a chord with the soul.

Maybe she's talking not about visionary dreams, but literal dreams! Except there are very few literal dreams I would ever want to believe in, or hope to come true. I rarely remember my dreams, but this week I haven't slept without them, or actually remembering them that is. They're all very frustrating, though. Some of my worst were being able to understand English, but only thinking and talking in German, and more recently searching for something or someone and I didn't know what it was and I couldn't stop till I found it or them, and it just went on forever. Never did figure out what or who I was looking for. That's a tangent, it really has nothing to do with the song...

I keep coming back to Robert Burns, and the way his writing touches everyone. If you get past the Scottish slang, he is the everyday man's man. He writes about falling, about picking ourselves up to struggle on with the human life, loving with the depths of our being, death and taxes. In essence he explains following your dreams, and the human battle for existence. For indeed, isn't existence the simplest of dreams? He is a different pot of ink altogether, but that is the kind of dream, the facing of fears and the unknown, the beautiful dreams that relate to every man. Those are dreams that I do believe are beautiful, and are actually worth believing in.

Stats

Beethoven was genius. Nothing is randomly thrown together; it's all thought out beforehand. He doesn't include something because it was popular, there's so much more to his process than that. He is "an unrestrained personality" according to Guerter. That doesn't denote alot of mystery to his process or his message.

If you're going to play some Irish songs, don't bring your fancy schmancy classical bowing and nonrhythmical accompaniment ideas - forget all that and fiddle like a peasant! Please, it would sound SO much better and stylistic.

Congratulations to Ukraine, Slovenia, Germany and the UK for being my top viewers after the US. And the Android users, who make up 11% of the systems used to view this blog. Haha

Molto Vivace Allegretto

I've learned some interesting things in psychology, many of them quite useful. One I've been thinking about lately has been a concept on the way we perceive human actions. If someone does something, you will view it differently than if you yourself were doing the exact same thing. Known as the Fundamental Attributes Error, this is when you take one action of someone else and you attribute it to their everyday nature (Dispositional Attribution) (normally this is something you assume for negative actions, like bad driving). However, whenever you commit an error yourself, you view it with Situational Attribution - it was the situation that caused your behavior, and not part of your personality. Thus, we call people idiots when they turn in front of us on the street or do other aggravating things, but when we do something we're not idiots. We don't act like that everyday, do we?

Next time I have an energy drink I need to time it better. It most definitely got me through the last rehearsal, but now I'm wondering how far into the wee hours it will take me...

I Love You

Somebody once told me I shouldn't say "I love you" to anyone unless I knew I was going to marry them. It doesn't seem like such a bad idea at first. But since then I've realised it doesn't make much sense at all. First, there is the definition of love:

Love is patient, and is kind; Love does not envy, it does not parade itself, it is not puffed up; Does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil; Rejoices not in inequity, but rejoices in the truth; Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Cor. 13)

Then we are commanded to love our neighbors and our brethren, and our enemies. Which is basically everyone we know, in generality. So if you're trying to love someone, why wouldn't you want to tell them at some point, especially if you actually care about them? Oh, well you say 'romantic love' is different. But is it? If you're referring to the world's interpretation of "love," it doesn't make sense to try and preserve something that is already corrupt and meaningless. So we are talking about the Christ-like love that actually means something, that we are called to do. I would never hold that back from anyone; what is the benefit? It seems almost selfish. I think I should say "I love you" while I can, because you never know which day may be their last.

How come they named a flower after him?...

The speed of technology really doesn't solve all the problems of communication. The same issues and frustrations are still there to be dealt with, and in some cases they are actually heightened. Its interesting, my friend mentioned that technology really in a way is simply clearing the path toward narcissism as a culture. Scary to think about, but all the elements are there. Interesting how history repeats itself...

Have you ever shot a man before? -No. Have you ever held a gun before? -No. What do you do for a living? -I'm a hairstylist. chk-chk.

I have not watched a more pointless movie in a long time. I can't remember one that was more random. It was about Brooklyn mobsters, a dude hairstylist, a hot chick, and a kangaroo wearing a red jacket with $50grand in the pocket. Set in the outback of Australia. Told you it was random. There were some funny lines, I'll admit ("This is the most romantic moment of my life. *splash* And now it's over.") and the kangaroo was awesome (actually the only awesome part of the movie), but overall it was the biggest waste of time in at least the past year. Afterward I modified that Relient K song, Crayons Can Melt on Us for All I Care... "I. Just wasted. 90minutes of your Life."

Gave in to the coffee this morning. How can you say no to espresso roast?... But I'm going to make up for those 90 wasted minutes last night and work on the Fauré Requiem. Singing in Latin is an interesting experience. Especially when you really don't understand it, and you hope the English translation underneath is somewhat accurate.

Väsen is coming to town Wednesday, March 16th! Amazing trad band from Sweden, performing at the Kuumbwa Jazz Center. Tickets available here. Might have to skip rehearsal for that one.

Twitbook, MyFace, or Chitter...

Technology is incredible. What's more incredible is how much we have come to rely on it. Social networking, GPS, internet, cellphones... What will people think 100years from now? Or even 2,000?... During my communications with the faculty at the Maritime Academy, I was told that I would probably be in one of the last classes for celestial navigation. That is completely mindblowing to think about. They're planning to throw an over 1000year old tradition out the window because of technology. Not only a tradition, a science. A science that's been around almost as long as the earth. Not looking forward to old age, except being able to say "I told you so." Now back in 2010, when they used to teach navigation by the stars, that was before they realized we were about to lose all satellite-based communication from that solar flare... Of course at that point, the heavens might have changed so much that we will need new calculations and ways of using the stars, and all this other stuff won't be any use. Who knows what's going to happen, but I still think they're taking a huge step of faith considering GPS and all that hasn't been around that long, and the sextant & chronometer have.

A lot of weird flashbacks lately have caught me in outer space. But while endeavoring to live with as few regrets as possible, things have been going pretty well. I think either way things'll work out for an interesting future. The hard part is wanting to do the opposite of what certain people tell me, but then when someone I respect tells me the same thing it puts me back in the logical position. Hah. Logic. I'm starting to think it's a myth.

Totally poned the Dmajor Prelude. Oh yeah.

Celestial Navigation & the End of the World

Today I was informed about many spectacular things I never imagined could be floating out there. The end of 2011 is the end of the world in the Mayan calendar. 2012 is apparently the year we reach a "solar maxim" when the sun puts out an enormous amount of solar flares containing electromagnetic radiation, which apparently will destroy most of our satellites, and possible fry our electrical grid, which may take years afterwards to reconstruct so it works again. Needless to say, we will lose all internet, cell phone, and basically any electronic form of communication. We will be informed 6minutes before it hits by a satellite put up specifically for that purpose. Amazing theory. Can't wait to see if it happens.

First navigation class. I realized afterwards that I probably went way too fast with the concepts. Not many questions, and haphazard lame answers to the few that were asked... Please remind me I never want to be a professional teacher.

Page 3 of Goltermann is coming along, I'm so happy to be on to the beautiful theme in Bminor, it's so sonorous compared to the lively 1st and 2nd themes. Like something you want to sing whenever you see something beautiful. It's like a flower opening, a ripe apple falling to the grass, the sail filling with wind on a downwind course, the perfect ride on a fantastic wave, the unconditional love of the eternal Father.

The Passion & the Beauty

Lately I've been blown away by the beautiful things that surround us - the blue sky, the redwoods, the ocean, the wind, the rain... and life itself. The world may be ugly, but life is beautiful. It's like a melody we are meant to sing through, carefully articulating each phrase, expressing every dynamic. It's a gift, a precious one, something we can't just throw away by searching for worldly securities. Our experiences shape who we are, where we are, and what we are becoming.

Every experience in your entire life has led up to this exact moment. -Jon Mahony


When you walk on the Path, instead of trying to run over the mud on one side or drown in the lake on the other, you start to love it. There are a lot of bends up ahead, but the Path doesn't end, and the views keep getting better.