Playing lots of piano lately, feeling good about it. Throat issues, feeling bad about them. Throat coat medicated tea, feeling good about it.
When my body malfunctions, I honestly feel that I can be repaired more efficiently if I avoid the use of food stuffs. I've come to see it as true that my body spends the bulk of its energy breaking down food. And if I eliminate the food, my body can put its energy toward repair. This is not something I'm seeking councilling for. I just think it's an interesting facet to my character.
It is frustrating when I've gone through spells with the intention of cleaning out my system and shortly after returning to a more regular diet I feel poor again. This, to me, means that my body has not been fully clensed. My choices lie between giving up on my health and resorting to gluttany (eating when there is no need, simply for the joy of eating), and returning to another bout with self starvation, attemping to trust the voice in my head that says it's working - I feel good; and ignore the other, "evil" voice in my head which tells me I've made it proud, I'm perfectly healthy, and I should celebrate with a meal.
I don't think what I've written here is completely exageratory. Although perhaps the overall tone isn't clear. Wondering whether or not I should eat is not a devistating ordeal. It is mostly annoying. Mildly depressing.
Right now, for example, I've got a sore throat. I had it when I woke up, about sixteen hours ago. I woke up believing that my body was in need of repair and that the best thing I could do is avoid food. I, however, enjoy food. I took what I thought was a pretty reasonable move and ate a grapefruit.
Under no circumstance was I convinced of anything other than, "the best that I could do is fast." The grapefruit was a sort of compromise. I accepted it as weakness that I didn't have the resolve to attempt a fast.
After my first class I spoke to a bassist named Matt. He told me he was awake early and had eggs and toast that morning. I was clearly interested, and he embelished his story with turkey bacon. Sweeping disappointment as far under the rug as I could, I went grocery shopping. I got juices, hummous, mushrooms, blackberries, crackers, spinach, and olive oil. Then I went to the coop for local eggs, and I made a spinach, mushroom, onion and Swiss omelette, and I soaked it in rooster (hot) sauce. It was pretty good.
I don't know if there's much more to talk about. I'm mostly a happy boy. I'm an eager student of music. I've shown remarkable skill and I've barely left the front steps of my potential.
But I'm not perfect. I imagine perfection will be more soothing.
simon
It's saturday. I've had some yogurt and granola, and i'm eating a salad.
I worry too much about food. I like to eat. I want to be healthy.
Ninja Video has the examined life on their server. It's a documentary i saw a while back at city cinema. It's a handful of philosophical people taking turns talking.
Lady says, "Anxiety is the mood for ethics. Take George Bush, who isn't anxious at all when sending people to war or to the electric chair. They pride themselves in their lack of anxiety, not losing a wink of sleep." and "if you feel that you've acquitted yourself honorably then you're not so ethical. If you have a good conscience then you're kind of worthless, like if you think 'oh, i gave this homeless person five bucks, i'm great' then you're irresponsible. The responsible being is one who thinks they've never been responsible enough."
I am hereby honorably acquitted. Until now i've had the misfortune to think that i've not been good enough. Thankyou media, for labeling me perfect. I better get moving.
Love.
The restaurant is called the outer clove, and it's got some focus on garlic. I had a super good meal. I forget what it's called. Roasted chick pea balls, put into a wrap. Falafel! Goodness. Had it with a salad with a signature garlicky dressing. The owner happily told me to come back any time. They do the guest musician thing every wednesday.
I've got another gig coming up. A week from saturday i'll be playing in a local grocery store/cafe called ellisons. I'm looking forward to playing a bunch more original tunes at that show. People go to ellisons to listen to the local musicians. It's a saturday afternoon gig, i'm playing from 12 to 1. Music runs from 12 to 3. I'll again be entitled to a tip jar, and on top of that i'll be picking up a gift certificate for the grocery store. The store is nice, full of organic, locally made thisses and thats.
Ho ho ho, that's not all. Rock Ensemble (which has been dubbed, "down the river six") is playing a show at Finley's a week from this friday. The evening before my ellisons show. Look at me, eh? Busy little musician.
Every day. Reading, writing, playing music. This summer i'm going to be working in a restaurant. Devastating. A tree planting invitation arrived recently which is quite a draw. It's still a far cry from just doing art. We'll see how things go. xo.
I've had issues lately. I've probably been working harder in the six weeks since winter break than i've ever worked at anything. For the sake of remaining truthful to treeplanting, we'll say much of my work has been mental. Maybe even emotional.
I've been stressing out. I don't think it's very like me to stress out. I think i've got my head going in circles.
The story is such: at music school the students are presented with information that it took the instructors years to discover for themselves. This isn't a major problem. It just means that information will have to be tucked away while i go through the motions in an attempt to learn it. The theory is easier to accumulate than the practice.
It leaves me with work to do. I am thankful for the work i've got ahead of me. I am thankful for the drive towards musicianship. But i'm forgetting how to be happy and have fun. If not forgetting, i'm at least neglecting those moments of ease. The moments that connected me to art in the first place.
I sit and read, or write, or (worse for the conscience) i watch a t.v. program on the internet, and the time slips away. I feel useless. I'm sad because of the mountain of work ahead of me. I doubt that any effort motivated by sadness is of quality.
That's probably a full half of how i feel about things. The other half is great. Happy and inspired. Moments of happiness are plentiful. There is only one sadness. It is the same sadness that i keep returning to. I am in control. I'm learning to love. Sadness will mark as a reflection of my passion, and of music's importance. It will serve to inspire. I will endure.
Talking about being sad makes me happy.
peaceLove
simon
Mark, bass teacher has been pushing for me to play jazz tunes with fellow class mates. It hasn't been an easy habit to form, and it's hurting my ability to memorize tunes. Until recent developments have found me learning to play and record simple comping pieces on my keyboard! Now I'm pushing learning in multiple directions all in the comfort of three am study sessions.
Reading week begins in four days and I am fucking thrilled.
simon
When my body malfunctions, I honestly feel that I can be repaired more efficiently if I avoid the use of food stuffs. I've come to see it as true that my body spends the bulk of its energy breaking down food. And if I eliminate the food, my body can put its energy toward repair. This is not something I'm seeking councilling for. I just think it's an interesting facet to my character.
It is frustrating when I've gone through spells with the intention of cleaning out my system and shortly after returning to a more regular diet I feel poor again. This, to me, means that my body has not been fully clensed. My choices lie between giving up on my health and resorting to gluttany (eating when there is no need, simply for the joy of eating), and returning to another bout with self starvation, attemping to trust the voice in my head that says it's working - I feel good; and ignore the other, "evil" voice in my head which tells me I've made it proud, I'm perfectly healthy, and I should celebrate with a meal.
I don't think what I've written here is completely exageratory. Although perhaps the overall tone isn't clear. Wondering whether or not I should eat is not a devistating ordeal. It is mostly annoying. Mildly depressing.
Right now, for example, I've got a sore throat. I had it when I woke up, about sixteen hours ago. I woke up believing that my body was in need of repair and that the best thing I could do is avoid food. I, however, enjoy food. I took what I thought was a pretty reasonable move and ate a grapefruit.
Under no circumstance was I convinced of anything other than, "the best that I could do is fast." The grapefruit was a sort of compromise. I accepted it as weakness that I didn't have the resolve to attempt a fast.
After my first class I spoke to a bassist named Matt. He told me he was awake early and had eggs and toast that morning. I was clearly interested, and he embelished his story with turkey bacon. Sweeping disappointment as far under the rug as I could, I went grocery shopping. I got juices, hummous, mushrooms, blackberries, crackers, spinach, and olive oil. Then I went to the coop for local eggs, and I made a spinach, mushroom, onion and Swiss omelette, and I soaked it in rooster (hot) sauce. It was pretty good.
I don't know if there's much more to talk about. I'm mostly a happy boy. I'm an eager student of music. I've shown remarkable skill and I've barely left the front steps of my potential.
But I'm not perfect. I imagine perfection will be more soothing.
simon
Hey there,
It's saturday. I've had some yogurt and granola, and i'm eating a salad.
I worry too much about food. I like to eat. I want to be healthy.
Ninja Video has the examined life on their server. It's a documentary i saw a while back at city cinema. It's a handful of philosophical people taking turns talking.
Lady says, "Anxiety is the mood for ethics. Take George Bush, who isn't anxious at all when sending people to war or to the electric chair. They pride themselves in their lack of anxiety, not losing a wink of sleep." and "if you feel that you've acquitted yourself honorably then you're not so ethical. If you have a good conscience then you're kind of worthless, like if you think 'oh, i gave this homeless person five bucks, i'm great' then you're irresponsible. The responsible being is one who thinks they've never been responsible enough."
I am hereby honorably acquitted. Until now i've had the misfortune to think that i've not been good enough. Thankyou media, for labeling me perfect. I better get moving.
Love.
I had a gig last night. Playing solo acoustic folk and pop covers for nearly two hours in a local restaurant. Got payed with a meal, some wine, and a tip jar. It is enormously difficult to sing unamplified for an hour and forty five minutes. I had to really push my voice into an easier lower register, focus on my belly. It was an excellent experience. It pushed my vocal endurance to places i wasn't aware of. It shrunk my desire for instant positive feedback in that there was not applause between songs, there was just more eating, more conversation. I was a fly on the wall.
The restaurant is called the outer clove, and it's got some focus on garlic. I had a super good meal. I forget what it's called. Roasted chick pea balls, put into a wrap. Falafel! Goodness. Had it with a salad with a signature garlicky dressing. The owner happily told me to come back any time. They do the guest musician thing every wednesday.
I've got another gig coming up. A week from saturday i'll be playing in a local grocery store/cafe called ellisons. I'm looking forward to playing a bunch more original tunes at that show. People go to ellisons to listen to the local musicians. It's a saturday afternoon gig, i'm playing from 12 to 1. Music runs from 12 to 3. I'll again be entitled to a tip jar, and on top of that i'll be picking up a gift certificate for the grocery store. The store is nice, full of organic, locally made thisses and thats.
Ho ho ho, that's not all. Rock Ensemble (which has been dubbed, "down the river six") is playing a show at Finley's a week from this friday. The evening before my ellisons show. Look at me, eh? Busy little musician.
Every day. Reading, writing, playing music. This summer i'm going to be working in a restaurant. Devastating. A tree planting invitation arrived recently which is quite a draw. It's still a far cry from just doing art. We'll see how things go. xo.
Working hard, or hardly working.
I've had issues lately. I've probably been working harder in the six weeks since winter break than i've ever worked at anything. For the sake of remaining truthful to treeplanting, we'll say much of my work has been mental. Maybe even emotional.
I've been stressing out. I don't think it's very like me to stress out. I think i've got my head going in circles.
The story is such: at music school the students are presented with information that it took the instructors years to discover for themselves. This isn't a major problem. It just means that information will have to be tucked away while i go through the motions in an attempt to learn it. The theory is easier to accumulate than the practice.
It leaves me with work to do. I am thankful for the work i've got ahead of me. I am thankful for the drive towards musicianship. But i'm forgetting how to be happy and have fun. If not forgetting, i'm at least neglecting those moments of ease. The moments that connected me to art in the first place.
I sit and read, or write, or (worse for the conscience) i watch a t.v. program on the internet, and the time slips away. I feel useless. I'm sad because of the mountain of work ahead of me. I doubt that any effort motivated by sadness is of quality.
That's probably a full half of how i feel about things. The other half is great. Happy and inspired. Moments of happiness are plentiful. There is only one sadness. It is the same sadness that i keep returning to. I am in control. I'm learning to love. Sadness will mark as a reflection of my passion, and of music's importance. It will serve to inspire. I will endure.
Talking about being sad makes me happy.
peaceLove
simon
Doing real good. Sleeping less.
Mark, bass teacher has been pushing for me to play jazz tunes with fellow class mates. It hasn't been an easy habit to form, and it's hurting my ability to memorize tunes. Until recent developments have found me learning to play and record simple comping pieces on my keyboard! Now I'm pushing learning in multiple directions all in the comfort of three am study sessions.
Reading week begins in four days and I am fucking thrilled.
simon