update.
I'm in ottawa. It's the 27th. It's been quite the week, i must say.
Firstly, i didn't play the open mic in nashville. Mark drove me to the place where the open mic was going to go down, and there was about 5 people in the bar. Which is somewhat funny, since i had said i'd play if there was 4, and didn't.
Two men up on stage, the younger man sat idly by the older, holding an acoustic, and not doing anything with it. The older man up on stage was about 60, and he was slowly picking at some folk chords singing about how lord jesus loves us. There was about a 50 year old couple drinking water and talking to the bartender.
So yeah, i split. No major loss.
I left nashville feeling good. Aine went back 6 hours before dave and I, cause i had hoped i could hit another open mic. It didn't happen, as we ended up at a karaoke bar. It was entertaining, i'll give it that. With a couple of exceptions, i can say half the participants were drunk hot shot gentlemen butchering songs and having a great time, and the other half were drunk overweight women, with the fullest, most solid voices. It wasn't how i planned my last night in nashville, but life on the road is best left unplanned.
It kinda helps you deal with adversity...
Dave and I got off the bus in detroit. The bus we were on went from nashville through to detroit, with a couple of stops along the way, and it was time for us to switch busses and finish the journey to canada. Unfortionately, our luggage didn't make it to detroit.
So we go talk to the lady at the luggage window. Filled out some forms. She goes to call some places and comes back to get our forms from us. She said that our luggage was not left in nashville, and that it wasn't in cincinatti (one of the major stops along the way). There was one other place she had to try, but she wasn't getting through to them.
Head held high. What else is there to do?
I go to the ticket window, and exchange my ticket to toronto for a two piece ticket, one from detroit to london, one from london to toronto. Free of charge, which is the coolest part of taking the bus. I get to go visit natalie.
As far as luggage goes, i dont have my sleeping bag, changes of clothes, mini-disc player, jungle speed, or my guitar. I have a dwindling bag of apples and four books. My carry on. I remain hopeful they'll call toronto while i'm in london, and my things will be returned to me.
But also, i'm not bummed out. I've got alot less weight on my back, and a firmer grip on what "the essentials" are.
London was fucking sweet. For those of you not in the know, natalie andrusiak is the girl with the couch. She moved from pei after she graduated, which was a year after yours truly. We dated for a bit when she was in grade 12, and i went to prom with her. I hadn't seen her in four years, give or take.
They live in a15th floor appartment, and they call it the cave. My understanding of the nickname is that it's because it's a deep hole, in the nicest way possible. It's difficult to leave. You're a long way from the outdoors (deck not included).
I was only there for two days, if i'd been there longer, events would've been more likely to blur together. I met some good people.
I think i'm going to pass on the more details option, even though the time in london left me with a few things to say.
Actually, just to make sure i haven't accidentally hinted otherwise, i'll say that nothing went down between natalie and I. I was innitially under the impression that it was because we were never left alone, and there was always something else exciting going on. But after a brief exchange at the bus terminal when she came to see me off, i learned that was not the case. Basically, i leaned in for a nice goodbye kiss, and was avoided hard.
She looked real good, though. The whole time i was there. It was a fucking great trip. Everybody should watch a movie called Waiting. It's about a team of people working in a restaurant. All very funny. Ryan Reynolds, Dane Cook, etc. I watched this movie 4 full times during my 48 hours at the cave. Too often? You'd think so.
Dave and Aine meet me at the toronto bus station, fresh off the bus from london. We walk back to Aine's house. Fatty (girl driving dave and myself to ottawa) has gotten a flat tire, and will be late picking us up. We hang out at Aine's for a chunk of hours, have a few drinks. I got a phone number from this doll that showed up. Cute as heck, from montreal. Chances of seeing her again are higher then zero. Saying any more then that would be wishful thinking.
Fatty's troubles end, and we get things going, all be it, pretty late. We arrive in ottawa at about 2:00am. Trever Carmody is in the croud, which was cool. He offers some beers. "It's wildcat, and it might be warm." Thanks trev.
Next day we all get a bit of a drunk on, and we go to zaphods. Listen to some nice tunes, dance a little. Nothing crazy. Standard good times, i like to call 'em.
Now it's monday, 5:00. I need to order a bus ticket west 2 weeks in advance. That way i can save money supreme, and stop anywhere i'd like to stop. If we get our luggage before we go, that'd be nice, but my fingers aren't crossed. I feel like these things are gone. The guitar has sentimental value. So that sucks.
With 2 weeks to kill before going westward, i might find myself going south again, to the balmy beaches of toronto, hamilton and london. But i'm fully aware i dont have a way there, short of hitching, so i'll see.
Later, fools.
Dave and Aine went to Memphis today, they had some things they wanted to check out. I went to breakfast with mark and two of his buddies at around 11. Walked to a bookstore from there, and in the bookstore i sat and read Zen in the Art of Archery. It was pretty darn good, but my expectations for it were outrageous, so i closed the book merely pleased.
Walked to mark's from there. Showered, surveyed the internet.
I'm not sure if this is known, so i'll tell it. I met mark on CouchSurfing.com, a website where you sign on as a member if you have couch area that you can spare. I searched for nashville, and people who are willing to have 3 or more people stay with them. Out of about 20 names, i sent two emails. Mark responded to his. The other one was left unreturned.
So Dave, Aine and myself have been staying in mark's spare room, two on a mattress, one on the floor. I think i can speak for us all to say that we felt right at home.
There was supposed to be a songwriter's night monday at the springwater, which is mark's local watering hole. But i was disapointed to find out that there was a band playing that night, so the open mic was cancelled.
Today, however, i did a quick search for open mics in nashville, and i came across one. I called to confirm it's existance about fifteen minutes ago. I'm excited. It's been a really long time since i've played on a stage. Plus, i'm in music city, usa. So i suspect i'll be playing along side people who know what they're doing, and for an audience with expectations.
Or there'll be four people there, including me and the bartender. Either way, i can say i played nashville, and you can fuck right off.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Last night there was some good convo between dave, aine, and myself. I learned a thing or two. It's surprising what you know about yourself when you put yourself on the spot to explain how you feel.
And i feel that i'm a needy son of a bitch. I dont need anything physical, but damn, i'm a pretty big whore for attention. There must be insecurities somewhere, cause i love compliments. I love thinking that my life matters to other people.
Of course, realizing this is a good step towards stopping it. Getting complements and talking to those interested in me doesn't really do anything for me, other then make me want more compliments and more attention.
So i guess i'll try to stop writing for other people. It's not a goal that i can ever know i've accomplished, but if i stick it somewhere in my head, hopefully it'll make some changes. I feel like trying to please you is what not only makes me cross out lyrics, but makes me write lousy ones in the first place. Somewhere, at the very bottom of everything, i'm sure i know what i want to say. Someday, i'll find out.
Peaches and cream, my sweet apple pie.
I'm not going to let myself get worse at drums, either. It's uphill from here.
I'd still like to own a piano. I remember when i was getting piano lessons in kelowna in fall, 2004. My piano instructor said that it was too bad I had started playing so late in life, cause otherwise i could've become a professional. I've got a real knack for the instrument, he said. I thought it was funny he said i was too late. Cause i've got the mindset that i'm better equiped to learn something new, then even the most wide eyed child. You see, i am much younger then that.
Bad news. I've taken a recent survey of my eggs. And a great many of them appear to be in one basket. It worries me. I'm fragile. Nothing to do about it though, I'll just keep walking, trying to concentrate more on the passage of the sun then the thinning soles of my shoes. Three cheers for mirages. It's real from here.
Probably going to toronto tomorrow. Ottawa has been good to me.
Sometimes i feel like i'm in a hurry for things to happen, but apparently not then, hopefully not anymore.
I was thinking about craig's recent post. What makes people happy, what makes people feel unsatified.
There's swings. Provided you're not on meds, there's swings. There's times you're happy, times you're not. Times you know what you're doing, times your unsure. When i dont know what i should do, when i'm feeling unsatisfied, i write or i play guitar.
Now, this isn't saying that i only play guitar when i'm in a bad mood. I dont like using the expression "bad mood" anyway. Cause it's not like i'm miserable. I'm just unsure. It's not one of those places in my mind where i'm along for the ride, it's more of a fork in the road, with no way of knowing which way is right.
By no means do i churn out my best work in this mind set. But i improve. My fingers grow smarter. I brooden the path between my thoughts and the ink on the page. So at a future time, when i pick up the guitar or the pen with a spirited mindset, i am skilled enough to work out some quality shit.
Provided the preceeding is all true, i'd apply it to a different situation by saying if you want to know your philosophy then read philosophy when you dont know what to do. It's important to know that this wont necessarily be fun. But you'll be learning. You'll be improving the facets of yourself that you'd like to improve.
I've found that even when i pick up the guitar, sometimes the anxiety is still there. Alot of time i spend with the guitar leaves me unsatisfied. But it keeps the cobwebs off my hands.
So that some time later, when you genuinely feel like picking up the philosophy book, you might catch a few paragraphs really hard. You might realize some really amazing shit about yourself or the world you live in. If philosophy is something you care about, this will happen. If those moments never happen, you might be in a dead end major, on your way to a dead end job.
Cause you gotta love what you do. Even it's it's only one out of every four times you do it.
By the way, i've played alot of bass and alot of drums since i've been here. I'm rocking the drums harder then you could imagine. I might even be good at them.
I should be working on my site reading book. I'm going to learn to read sheet music. Then i'm going to compose.
I read once that anytime you have a thought that you should be doing something, however disapointed you are with the idea, you should probably do it.
I'm learning how little i need to be happy. It's really something. Dave told me that his recent post explained that stories about our trip will not be interesting, because we're both content with not doing much sight seeing. Example:
Today, i woke up at about 10:30. Left the house at 11:30 or so. I found a fruit and vegetable shop, bought myself a banana and a plum. Breakfast.
We walked around for upwords of an hour, finally making our way to a library. Dave found The Prophet, and a book about successful writing. I found a translation of Aristotle's Poetics. Or a collection of his essays relating to art and such. I read an essay which tackled painting, music, and poetry. It spoke of the qualities and faults of each artistic form. In a neat way, it chose to compete these forms against eachother, saying in which sense a painting can do more then a poem, in which sense it can do less, etc.
Then we left the library, walked around a little longer. I bought some cigarettes. Decided to come back home for some food, give or take. Give: that was our quotable reason for heading home. Take: I'm home now, content as heck, and i haven't eaten. Now it's quarter to five, and we're home. I was going to put on some classical music, but when i hit play Mike's Alison Krauss cd started up, so i'm listening to that. Mike is Josh's roommate.
Speaking of classical, I decided to leave my cd collection at home. Upwords of 130 cds that i haven't been without for quite some time. When we were shopping in moncton i used a future shop cd card (christmas gift from my uncle Jeff, Dorian's father) to purchise a collection of 8 cds, by "the great composers". I've got a disc of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Strauss and Handel. I've been really happy to have these discs on me. I've heard 4 of them so far.
I hope people in north america can remember how little we need for survival.
Most common activity since i've been on the road: Writing. It's mostly been an exploration of how society might better function, but there's alot about desire. Realization of our desires, and ensuring that proper weight is given to particular desires. I'm just trying to figure out what i know, and what i believe in. Lyrics haven't come yet, but i've got a new riff.
Peace.
I'm in ottawa. It's the 27th. It's been quite the week, i must say.
Firstly, i didn't play the open mic in nashville. Mark drove me to the place where the open mic was going to go down, and there was about 5 people in the bar. Which is somewhat funny, since i had said i'd play if there was 4, and didn't.
Two men up on stage, the younger man sat idly by the older, holding an acoustic, and not doing anything with it. The older man up on stage was about 60, and he was slowly picking at some folk chords singing about how lord jesus loves us. There was about a 50 year old couple drinking water and talking to the bartender.
So yeah, i split. No major loss.
I left nashville feeling good. Aine went back 6 hours before dave and I, cause i had hoped i could hit another open mic. It didn't happen, as we ended up at a karaoke bar. It was entertaining, i'll give it that. With a couple of exceptions, i can say half the participants were drunk hot shot gentlemen butchering songs and having a great time, and the other half were drunk overweight women, with the fullest, most solid voices. It wasn't how i planned my last night in nashville, but life on the road is best left unplanned.
It kinda helps you deal with adversity...
Dave and I got off the bus in detroit. The bus we were on went from nashville through to detroit, with a couple of stops along the way, and it was time for us to switch busses and finish the journey to canada. Unfortionately, our luggage didn't make it to detroit.
So we go talk to the lady at the luggage window. Filled out some forms. She goes to call some places and comes back to get our forms from us. She said that our luggage was not left in nashville, and that it wasn't in cincinatti (one of the major stops along the way). There was one other place she had to try, but she wasn't getting through to them.
Head held high. What else is there to do?
I go to the ticket window, and exchange my ticket to toronto for a two piece ticket, one from detroit to london, one from london to toronto. Free of charge, which is the coolest part of taking the bus. I get to go visit natalie.
As far as luggage goes, i dont have my sleeping bag, changes of clothes, mini-disc player, jungle speed, or my guitar. I have a dwindling bag of apples and four books. My carry on. I remain hopeful they'll call toronto while i'm in london, and my things will be returned to me.
But also, i'm not bummed out. I've got alot less weight on my back, and a firmer grip on what "the essentials" are.
London was fucking sweet. For those of you not in the know, natalie andrusiak is the girl with the couch. She moved from pei after she graduated, which was a year after yours truly. We dated for a bit when she was in grade 12, and i went to prom with her. I hadn't seen her in four years, give or take.
They live in a15th floor appartment, and they call it the cave. My understanding of the nickname is that it's because it's a deep hole, in the nicest way possible. It's difficult to leave. You're a long way from the outdoors (deck not included).
I was only there for two days, if i'd been there longer, events would've been more likely to blur together. I met some good people.
I think i'm going to pass on the more details option, even though the time in london left me with a few things to say.
Actually, just to make sure i haven't accidentally hinted otherwise, i'll say that nothing went down between natalie and I. I was innitially under the impression that it was because we were never left alone, and there was always something else exciting going on. But after a brief exchange at the bus terminal when she came to see me off, i learned that was not the case. Basically, i leaned in for a nice goodbye kiss, and was avoided hard.
She looked real good, though. The whole time i was there. It was a fucking great trip. Everybody should watch a movie called Waiting. It's about a team of people working in a restaurant. All very funny. Ryan Reynolds, Dane Cook, etc. I watched this movie 4 full times during my 48 hours at the cave. Too often? You'd think so.
Dave and Aine meet me at the toronto bus station, fresh off the bus from london. We walk back to Aine's house. Fatty (girl driving dave and myself to ottawa) has gotten a flat tire, and will be late picking us up. We hang out at Aine's for a chunk of hours, have a few drinks. I got a phone number from this doll that showed up. Cute as heck, from montreal. Chances of seeing her again are higher then zero. Saying any more then that would be wishful thinking.
Fatty's troubles end, and we get things going, all be it, pretty late. We arrive in ottawa at about 2:00am. Trever Carmody is in the croud, which was cool. He offers some beers. "It's wildcat, and it might be warm." Thanks trev.
Next day we all get a bit of a drunk on, and we go to zaphods. Listen to some nice tunes, dance a little. Nothing crazy. Standard good times, i like to call 'em.
Now it's monday, 5:00. I need to order a bus ticket west 2 weeks in advance. That way i can save money supreme, and stop anywhere i'd like to stop. If we get our luggage before we go, that'd be nice, but my fingers aren't crossed. I feel like these things are gone. The guitar has sentimental value. So that sucks.
With 2 weeks to kill before going westward, i might find myself going south again, to the balmy beaches of toronto, hamilton and london. But i'm fully aware i dont have a way there, short of hitching, so i'll see.
Later, fools.
Greetings friends,
Dave and Aine went to Memphis today, they had some things they wanted to check out. I went to breakfast with mark and two of his buddies at around 11. Walked to a bookstore from there, and in the bookstore i sat and read Zen in the Art of Archery. It was pretty darn good, but my expectations for it were outrageous, so i closed the book merely pleased.
Walked to mark's from there. Showered, surveyed the internet.
I'm not sure if this is known, so i'll tell it. I met mark on CouchSurfing.com, a website where you sign on as a member if you have couch area that you can spare. I searched for nashville, and people who are willing to have 3 or more people stay with them. Out of about 20 names, i sent two emails. Mark responded to his. The other one was left unreturned.
So Dave, Aine and myself have been staying in mark's spare room, two on a mattress, one on the floor. I think i can speak for us all to say that we felt right at home.
There was supposed to be a songwriter's night monday at the springwater, which is mark's local watering hole. But i was disapointed to find out that there was a band playing that night, so the open mic was cancelled.
Today, however, i did a quick search for open mics in nashville, and i came across one. I called to confirm it's existance about fifteen minutes ago. I'm excited. It's been a really long time since i've played on a stage. Plus, i'm in music city, usa. So i suspect i'll be playing along side people who know what they're doing, and for an audience with expectations.
Or there'll be four people there, including me and the bartender. Either way, i can say i played nashville, and you can fuck right off.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Last night there was some good convo between dave, aine, and myself. I learned a thing or two. It's surprising what you know about yourself when you put yourself on the spot to explain how you feel.
And i feel that i'm a needy son of a bitch. I dont need anything physical, but damn, i'm a pretty big whore for attention. There must be insecurities somewhere, cause i love compliments. I love thinking that my life matters to other people.
Of course, realizing this is a good step towards stopping it. Getting complements and talking to those interested in me doesn't really do anything for me, other then make me want more compliments and more attention.
So i guess i'll try to stop writing for other people. It's not a goal that i can ever know i've accomplished, but if i stick it somewhere in my head, hopefully it'll make some changes. I feel like trying to please you is what not only makes me cross out lyrics, but makes me write lousy ones in the first place. Somewhere, at the very bottom of everything, i'm sure i know what i want to say. Someday, i'll find out.
Peaches and cream, my sweet apple pie.
I'm becoming hugely interested in drumming. I've heard that it's easier to learn a second instrument then the first one. Seems to be working out. I'm not sure if anything i do on the drums is difficult, but i'm fairly sure that occasionally what is played sounds nice. That's all i need.
I'm not going to let myself get worse at drums, either. It's uphill from here.
I'd still like to own a piano. I remember when i was getting piano lessons in kelowna in fall, 2004. My piano instructor said that it was too bad I had started playing so late in life, cause otherwise i could've become a professional. I've got a real knack for the instrument, he said. I thought it was funny he said i was too late. Cause i've got the mindset that i'm better equiped to learn something new, then even the most wide eyed child. You see, i am much younger then that.
Bad news. I've taken a recent survey of my eggs. And a great many of them appear to be in one basket. It worries me. I'm fragile. Nothing to do about it though, I'll just keep walking, trying to concentrate more on the passage of the sun then the thinning soles of my shoes. Three cheers for mirages. It's real from here.
Probably going to toronto tomorrow. Ottawa has been good to me.
I was outside, thinking. And i came across a fantastic thought. I'm enjoying what i'm doing now, and i'm in no hurry for anything to happen.
Sometimes i feel like i'm in a hurry for things to happen, but apparently not then, hopefully not anymore.
I was thinking about craig's recent post. What makes people happy, what makes people feel unsatified.
There's swings. Provided you're not on meds, there's swings. There's times you're happy, times you're not. Times you know what you're doing, times your unsure. When i dont know what i should do, when i'm feeling unsatisfied, i write or i play guitar.
Now, this isn't saying that i only play guitar when i'm in a bad mood. I dont like using the expression "bad mood" anyway. Cause it's not like i'm miserable. I'm just unsure. It's not one of those places in my mind where i'm along for the ride, it's more of a fork in the road, with no way of knowing which way is right.
By no means do i churn out my best work in this mind set. But i improve. My fingers grow smarter. I brooden the path between my thoughts and the ink on the page. So at a future time, when i pick up the guitar or the pen with a spirited mindset, i am skilled enough to work out some quality shit.
Provided the preceeding is all true, i'd apply it to a different situation by saying if you want to know your philosophy then read philosophy when you dont know what to do. It's important to know that this wont necessarily be fun. But you'll be learning. You'll be improving the facets of yourself that you'd like to improve.
I've found that even when i pick up the guitar, sometimes the anxiety is still there. Alot of time i spend with the guitar leaves me unsatisfied. But it keeps the cobwebs off my hands.
So that some time later, when you genuinely feel like picking up the philosophy book, you might catch a few paragraphs really hard. You might realize some really amazing shit about yourself or the world you live in. If philosophy is something you care about, this will happen. If those moments never happen, you might be in a dead end major, on your way to a dead end job.
Cause you gotta love what you do. Even it's it's only one out of every four times you do it.
By the way, i've played alot of bass and alot of drums since i've been here. I'm rocking the drums harder then you could imagine. I might even be good at them.
I should be working on my site reading book. I'm going to learn to read sheet music. Then i'm going to compose.
I read once that anytime you have a thought that you should be doing something, however disapointed you are with the idea, you should probably do it.
The compass spins, the wilderness remains.
I'm learning how little i need to be happy. It's really something. Dave told me that his recent post explained that stories about our trip will not be interesting, because we're both content with not doing much sight seeing. Example:
Today, i woke up at about 10:30. Left the house at 11:30 or so. I found a fruit and vegetable shop, bought myself a banana and a plum. Breakfast.
We walked around for upwords of an hour, finally making our way to a library. Dave found The Prophet, and a book about successful writing. I found a translation of Aristotle's Poetics. Or a collection of his essays relating to art and such. I read an essay which tackled painting, music, and poetry. It spoke of the qualities and faults of each artistic form. In a neat way, it chose to compete these forms against eachother, saying in which sense a painting can do more then a poem, in which sense it can do less, etc.
Then we left the library, walked around a little longer. I bought some cigarettes. Decided to come back home for some food, give or take. Give: that was our quotable reason for heading home. Take: I'm home now, content as heck, and i haven't eaten. Now it's quarter to five, and we're home. I was going to put on some classical music, but when i hit play Mike's Alison Krauss cd started up, so i'm listening to that. Mike is Josh's roommate.
Speaking of classical, I decided to leave my cd collection at home. Upwords of 130 cds that i haven't been without for quite some time. When we were shopping in moncton i used a future shop cd card (christmas gift from my uncle Jeff, Dorian's father) to purchise a collection of 8 cds, by "the great composers". I've got a disc of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Vivaldi, Tchaikovsky, Strauss and Handel. I've been really happy to have these discs on me. I've heard 4 of them so far.
I hope people in north america can remember how little we need for survival.
Most common activity since i've been on the road: Writing. It's mostly been an exploration of how society might better function, but there's alot about desire. Realization of our desires, and ensuring that proper weight is given to particular desires. I'm just trying to figure out what i know, and what i believe in. Lyrics haven't come yet, but i've got a new riff.
Peace.