.

an aimlessness is starting to take hold. the drifting, at first casual, has now become overriding. even the word drifting doesn't seem appropriate because it at least somewhat implies destination, either to or from. this is a nameless, formless isolation that is as whimsical as any breeze. never settling, only pausing for brief intervals to regroup itself. it's enveloping. leaving only quiet languish in its wake.

no amount of reflection makes this palatable.

365

today marks my one year anniversary of moving home after my 18 month foray across the pond. it also means that in 4 days i'll be celebrating (?) a more infamous anniversary in my personal history.

i honestly wish i could sit here and offer some insight into these last 12 months, or my next 12 months but i'm really just beginning to get a grasp on both. no clear picture emerges as to what i've learned about myself since i've been home, let alone how that will shape the year to come. just fragments of observations.

a year ago i wasn't where i wanted to be nor am i where i want to be now. this doesn't discourage me, it just forces a certain amount of self evaluation that at times is healthy and fills me with purpose and at times leaves me questioning the direction my life is going.

this is merely a placemarker, something that offers me the smallest of windows into my thoughts a year on from a major plot point of my life.

when i think back to the life i had in brighton i'm hit simultaneously by two waves of emotion. water and foam spew into the air. though they seemingly cancel each other out, remnants of both remain. on the one hand i'm filled with nostalgia for the beautiful, vibrant seaside town that i once called home and on the other hand i'm faced with the constant battle of knowing that my domestic life in brighton was in shambles. something that becomes obvious when i allow myself the retrospect to ponder it, which isn't very often.

as it is want to do i'm sure time will soften the blow and i will eventually be able to look back and properly enjoy/appreciate my time and experience there. for now i have more questions than answers.

i'm not unhappy with my life now by any stretch but i do feel like i'm behind schedule.

double rye and gingers in an airport lounge

ever miss a flight before? well now i have.

though i arrived, checked in and found a seat in the airport lounge (my dad gave me a guest pass) i managed to completely fuck up my boarding time by an hour. the result of a few days of sporadic sleep and me generally being retarded. somehow i got it in my head that the departure time for the flight was actually the boarding time. so imagine how awesome it felt to get out of my seat and check the flight board only to see that my flight had just left. pretty fuckin awesome.

i managed to get on an afternoon flight which is good. what isn't good is that my friend is expecting to meet me there upon him arriving. we had a cab/shuttle ride booked together and i have no way of getting a message to him that i won't be there.

so yea, what a great way to start a trip.

fuckin' raptors.

watching the raptors is like finding out the girl i liked back in high school doesn't feel the same.

let me break it down. the day of each game i am constantly reminding myself that the raptors play, making sure to note the game time, opponent and any key injuries. i get excited about the prospect of watching the game which i do in most cases. if not then i catch bits on the radio or get updates online depending on where i am.

just like when i was 18 and i knew i was going to hang out with the girl i like. i'd think about it all through the day, making sure i was certain of our plans and thinking my way through anecdotes or anything else i might want to talk about.

then comes game time. it starts in different ways. in tonight's game (still underway i might add) the raptors got off to a great start and had a nice early lead. now we're almost at half time and they are down by 6 and on the way to a certain loss. sometimes they tease me like this, making me believe they might actually win whatever game it is i'm watching. other times they'll just get killed right from the start, like at madison square garden a couple weeks ago. however it happens to shake down on a given night the result is uniform; disappointment. constant disappointment.

so i'm hanging out with the girl i like. it's not a date because the girl i like always turns out to be someone who i'm friends with so we are quite likely doing something that would otherwise be construed as a date but is most certainly not a date. things are going well, we're both having a great time, enjoying each other's company and whatnot. then i drop the bomb followed by the inevitable rejection. again that could come in many forms: 'i don't want to ruin the friendship' or 'i don't feel that way about you' or the ever popular 'it's just not the right time'. at that point i realize that all along i've been hoping for something that was never going to happen.

like the raptors making the playoffs and/or eventually becoming a championship contending team. deep down i know my emotional attachment to the raptors is as tenuous and flimsy as my crush on any number of girls when i was in high school. but come on, i expect be to let down by girls in high school, i shouldn't have to put up with that from my professional sports teams.

right now they're down by 5 going into the 4th quarter. and will likely lose by 5-8 points. thanks a lot guys.

edit - final score: houston 107, toronto 97

JEW clarity show in NYC

feb 23 - 2009, terminal 5, nyc

i've written about the debacle part of the ny trip, now to mention the most glorious aspect. namely the reason for the trip itself: seeing the first of 10 shows that jimmy eat world are in the midst of playing across the states. 2009 marks the 10 year anniversary of their album clarity (one of my favourites of all time). in fact, frontman jim adkins stated that february 23 was 10 years to the day of their cd release show, making the start date of the tour hardly coincidental.

here is the set list from that night:

1. table for glasses
2. lucky denver mint
3. your new aesthetic
4. believe in what you want
5. a sunday
6. crush
7. 12.23.95
8. ten
9. just watch the fireworks
10. for me this is heaven
11. blister
12. clarity
13. goodbye sky harbour

encore:

14. what i would say to you now
15. no sensitivity
16. work
17. the middle
18. sweetness

for most of the clarity portion of the show the band seemed content to blister (pun intended) through the set, as if to get it done as quickly as they could. i think it could be attributed to nerves, though i'll never know. they may have also been looking to uphold a certain level of continuity through the album which would also contribute to the quick turn around between songs.

the crowd also left something to be desired. i was hoping they would reflect an older dichotomy of jew fans. ones who loved the band long before the middle was released. it's possible that these people did make up a large portion of the crowd, but it wasn't immediately apparent as i had hoped. i'm also willing to accept that i'm generalizing based on my surroundings. the venue was large enough (and was two levels) that i could have easily misjudged.

my personal favourites were 'a sunday', 'for me this is heaven', 'goodbye sky harbour' and 'no sensitivity'. 'a sunday' because i thought it was particularly well performed and sounded great. i've loved 'for me this is heaven' since i was 18 and had never seen that song live. 'goodbye sky harbour' has a particular place in my heart as it features the line 'i am but one small instrument' which is permanently inked on my body. they also did a stunning job of recreating the 14ish minute looped outro on the album. the only song i hoped to hear in the encore (since ever other song i'd want to hear was on clarity) was 'no sensitivity', an obscure track that appears on a split with a band called jebediah. that was a very pleasant surprise.

i was really disappointed that they played the middle. i thought this was the one show where they wouldn't need to pander to everyone by playing that schlock of a song. jim adkins introduced the song by saying it was a kind of a joke track that somehow ended up on bleed american. what i heard was 'yea we know this song sucks but here it is'.

i'm thrilled that i got to see this show and in spite of some detraction's mentioned above the bottom line is that i got to see one of my favourite bands perform one of my favourite albums in one of my favourite cities with some of my favourite people. it really doesn't get any better and i consider myself very lucky to have been there.

the car pound et. al

i had this all written up before but it didn't save so i have to do it again. otherwise this would have been posted already.

it is now thursday night. over the weekend i drove my parent's 2003 maxima down to nyc. we arrived on saturday night. everything was going swimmingly (something i'll hopefully write about after this) until monday morning. we left the apartment where we were staying to find that the car was gone. after a couple hours of scrambling to confirm where the car was (ie that it wasn't stolen) we ascertained that it was towed and was at the pier 76 impound lot (charmingly titled the car pound) at 39th and 12th ave. the waiting area at the car pound was bloated with quite the cross section of new yorkers. after an hour wait and a $185 charge i was able to get the car. as i entered the massive hanger that contained all the other vehicles the NYPD had towed i noticed there were two parking tickets on the windshield. they were written 18 minutes apart and were for $115 each. the officer who accompanied me said i could have one of them thrown out.

so that was monday morning/early afternoon. $300 american well spent.

i'm not done yet.

after that ordeal was over i was just relieved that i had the car back and a way to get home. i'm desperately broke and so the money is a huge issue for me but i can deal with that.

tuesday morning rolls around and we leave the apartment heading towards the car. what do i find? the fucking headlights are gone; stolen. completely ripped out of the sockets. at that point i wanted to cry. apparently the headlights on 2003 maxima's are huge targets for thieves because a) they're easy to rip out and b) something about the wattage of the lights on that particular model of car makes them of particular interest to those who are theft inclined. i then made the questionable decision to drive home, which i did successfully. i'm still in the midst of dealing with insurance and body shops to have the lights replaced, as my parents are on vacation. the damage is in the multiple thousands. this is definitely the last thing my parents needed to deal with while they're away.

so there you have it. call it acts of god, or bad luck, or bad karma. however you characterize it (and i'm purposely avoiding analyzing it in these terms) there is no doubt that this is a series of very unfortunate events.

oddly enough this doesn't change my opinion of humanity or even my opinion of nyc. i still love that city and i still believe there is a fundamental goodness in people. beyond that i'm at a lose for words. all i can do is be stoic and carry on.

a toronto sports fan's lament

this is too much. this is my second night in a row of watching both toronto sports teams lose.

the fact that the leafs and raptors have lost is no surprise it's just that rarely do they both play on the same back to back nights so rarely is the losing this concentrated.

it just makes me sad. sad that i'm cheering for teams that so consistently disappoint me. especially the raptors. i have braced myself for years of ineptitude from the leafs so at least my expectations for them are sufficiently low. the raptors however, were supposed to be good. to make the playoffs, to be on the verge of building a foundation that could legitimately challenge for a championship. what the fuck happened?

i immerse myself in sports journalism and there exist theories to explain why the raptors have been such a catastrophe but in the end it's all speculation. it's obviously a significant under performance. i don't offer any answers or explanations for this, just merely stating my lack of satisfaction.

the last seconds just ticked away on a 5-0 loss for the leafs. i actually cheer for them to lose, cause then maybe they'll land john tavares. that's about the only thing worth cheering for.

new track

i'm never one to do this but why not.

here is a track i did last week. i would call it instrumental acoustic ambient. enjoy?

i me mine

i figured it out. i now know how to tell if i really love something or someone. simply, my love manifests itself in an undying interest in the subject of my affection. moreover i am compelled to understand that subject as deeply and wholly as i possibly can. that is how i love. that is how i know what and who i love.

the barometer i used to come to this conclusion is my first, and up until now my one true love: music. ever since i’ve been able to conjure coherent thoughts i’ve loved music. i didn’t choose music, it chose me.

the love of music i have is only unique in that it is infused with the nuances of how i love. beyond that it is neither novel, nor terribly uncommon for people to posses equal or greater love for music then i do. i’ve been lucky as i have crossed paths with some great, but more importantly passionate musicians. because of that i’ve been able to witness the routes others have taken in their pursuit of music. everything from professional touring musicians, to pursuing work at choral festivals in italy, to just listening and being consumed by music.

then i compare that with the path i took. early on i was always interested in the elements of music. what made it sound that way? how could i learn to do that? that took the form of a fascination with theory. learning scales and intervals wasn’t boring for me as it was for most others. and i was good at it. i just always wanted to know more. the more i understood, the more i wanted to understand. in my mind the best way for me to do that was in an academic setting. as soon as i started high school i already knew i wanted to study music at university. during those high school years i was bands, jazz and concert bands at school and a punk/ska band outside of school. i loved being in every group i was in and i miss them all dearly but that wasn’t enough. playing music tells you how music feels. it doesn’t speak to the counterpoint of the various elements. that’s what i always wanted to get at.

a university degree in music later and i am no less interested in music and despite having a fundamental understanding of how music is constructed i feel only marginally more enlightened. truly this love affair will last a life time. i want to know so much more about music. my questions are no fewer then they were when i was 14. i possess those answers but those answers in turn have produced a new series of questions.

more to the point. why did i chose to study music like this? why didn’t i form a band and try to make it that way? until recently i listened to music pretty infrequently, certainly less then most of my friends. why didn’t my love of music cause me to listen to music non-stop?

i don’t actually have answers to these questions. more so it’s in asking those questions that i arrived at the insight that made me start writing this.

i have an unquenchable thirst for insight and understanding. music is what i’ve hungered for firstly and most thoroughly so naturally i would seek to understand it inside and out.

it’s this formula that explains why i love (or would love) a person. or at least how that would reveal itself to me. in a desire to not only know that person, but understand them wholly. it is in that search for understanding that i become passionate about a person, become attracted to them and all other accoutrement that comprise love.

yet another piece of insight that music has revealed.

5 facts about ronald reagan

1. he was a lifeguard as a boy in illinois
2. he was a general motors spokesman
3. he was a democrat until he was in his 30's
4. he came within inches of dying from an assassins bullet
5. he didn't much care for pierre elliott trudeau

going going

at once i'm wrapped around that voice. the pulse of the bass. you look good in the red dress. i'm glued to my lcd. still hooked on cellophane. seated comfortably in the recesses. all i see. going going gone.

compelled to everything and nothing. they collide and create stasis. zero sum game. descending synth line. poof. it's gone.

replaced by reverb and placid beats. in time to each heart beat. a simple bend and release. gently coaxing, soothing, imploring relief. fade out.

enter melody. rising with ease, falling with repose. x + y. i can't choose to be alone. lush, contrasted against a palette of colourful rhythm. i listen as i watch them paint. carving images from sounds.

transform transform. with every song reborn. continue thought process.

we carved the days from the hours

i want to write. i don't want to write. everything is derivative. i want to write. i don't want to write. what do you think jeff buckley? ...uh huh...yes...i see. i wish there were real existiential detectives like in i heart huckabees. how am i not myself? how am i not myself?

the atlantic was born today

things are complicated. things are simple. it's an incredibly fine line that seems to meander back and forth like a leaf bouncing whimsically on a breeze. this is neither novel nor particularly insightful on my part but what i really find interesting is the sheer fragility of the stasis.

something that may have taken years to build can crumble at any instant. not because everything we do is fatal but because no one is perceptive enough to predict uncertainties and as human beings we are constantly misleading one another. intentional or otherwise. false impressions are created, false expectations sewn.

it's just funny how significantly our lives and more specifically our relationships are dependant on so much that rests beyond our control. i know i've spent plenty of time wondering about fate, serendipity or whichever adjective you prefer. in the end though, it's a futile pursuit. it doesn't really matter what you call it or how you characterize it. the fact that random events happen and affect our lives is indisputable. trying to decipher that riddle is an impossible task.

everyone can and should define that for themselves.

it's both defeatist and comforting to know this, depending on how you look at it. certainly it's a lesson in enjoying the moment and savouring what is in front of you. way easier said then done, but always worth reinforcing.

personally a healthy acceptance of this goes a long way in bolstering my ability to cope with sudden situational changes. unfortunately my acceptance is as a result of dealing with some unforeseen shitiness but i realize that no one is immune to that.

there is no lesson to be learned other then awareness for awareness sake. that and sometimes it's best to just laugh at the absurdity of how things play out. for better, for worse. laughing always makes it better.

431 rue st. vincent

edinburgh, barcelona, montreal.

where i've spent my last 3 new year's eves, respectively. i thought after experiencing god awful wind, rain and cold in edinburgh that i had encountered the worst weather new year's eve could dish out. how wrong i was. how very, very wrong.

montreal is just a cold city. after being softened by 2 english winters, montreal slapped winter right across my face. like a knee to the groin we were met with the kind of wind and cold that not only paralyses you but also makes you angry with whoever was responsible. my recourse was to dance, and generally bounce as much as possible.

our hostel, not to be outdone, also proved to be an adventure. we booked a 4 person private room and 2 beds in a larger communal room. the main part of the hostel was set up like an open concept dorm with beds adorning all the walls. it's hard to describe other then to say it reminded me of something out of annie or the cider house rules. it was wild. what they neglected to tell us was that by 4 person private rooms they really meant small, cold, cabins. about the same size and about as well insulated as those covered wagons from pioneer days. my inadequately heated sleep (on an air mattress no less, cause that's also how they roll in this hostel) consisted of me fully clothed, under blankets, with my jacket and scarf tossed over me. it was the weirdest thing cause once you close the door and you're in the cabin it feels like you could be at a cottage somewhere, or camping. yet we were in the middle of a major north american city.

if i sound cold it's cause i am. at no point on this trip was i fully warmed. in edinburgh we slept in our rental car and that was way more comfortable and less cold.

montreal is always a great fuckin time though. there were mandatory stops for smoked meat and bagels. lots of bagels. like A LOT of bagels. a nice night drive up to mount royal and ringing in the new years at a street party on jacques cartier. truly, a lovely time.

bon annee!