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!