Ecuador Part 4

'April 22, 2010

Today was my first day in quarantine. It was good except that I keep thinking I'll forget something and I keep second guessing myself. Right now there are 5 birds there so there isn't a lot of work to do there and it was basically uneventful. Last night there was a bonfire which was nice. The fire pit is right next to the river so it's pretty loud. Speaking of the river, yesterday Andrea and I went swimming/bathing in it. The water is cold but I find it very refreshing and it's quite something to be sitting on the rocks of a raging river in the middle of the jungle. So far that has given me the most repose. Especially after a day of work. It feels so soothing. That and the water is so clear and fresh. You can even drink from it and I often do. It's kinda sad that I have to come this far to find natural water that hasn't been polluted.

I feel 24 hours more comfortable here. That's a weird sentence but I know what I mean. It feels more and more like 2 weeks won't be that hard to manage. Oh yea, in the middle of the night last night it just started pouring. The sky opened up and unleashed a deluge that didn't stop until late morning. It went on for hours and made waking up at 7:30 quite challenging.'

This is a much shorter entry than the last. My writing betrays my intentions of trying to cheer myself up. If I write it, it MUST be what I'm feeling, right? Not that anything I wrote is untrue. I did feel more comfortable after the first day, but much of my unease remained, all of which is omitted in my entries.

To this day thinking about those jungle rains I can almost summon its sound in my ears, its scent in my nose. It's ethereal. Allow me to contrast that with having to wake up at 7am, though in reality you've been up for a couple hours because the sound is deafening, and putting on clothes that haven't dried from the day before and trudging out amidst the deluge. To be fair, there was only one morning when it was raining when we awoke. It did rain every day, multiple times.


Lying in that river was reverie; our reprieve. It was running so fast that there were very few spots to even sit down and swimming was basically out of the question. The clarity of the water and the alignment of the rocks belied its natural creation as it looked as if this was something to be found at a lavish fountain in las vegas. This must have been melt water or something originating from higher elevations in the hills because it was very cold.

We did find sitting spots and did little more than sit there and let the water rush past us. In these minutes we were engulfed in where we were. Sitting in a beautiful river in the middle of the jungle. The toils of the day as well as thoughts of the next days work rushed past us with the water.

This last picture is me with Oscar, the baby kinkajou. They are from the same family as raccoons. Think: nocturnal, furry and vicious. This little guy is adorable and although they are nocturnal he had to be given medicine each day. He was kept in a separate cage adjacent to the main kinkajou cage and the 7 adults. I believe he now resides in with the other adults which is progress for him. Yay!

Ecuador Part 3

'April 21, 2010,

It was the best of times it was the worst of times. Much has happened since I last wrote. We landed in Quito and were soon at our hotel. The hotel was fantastic and other than a stiff bed it was precisely what we needed to cure our delirium after 3 flights and 18 hours of travel. Yesterday morning we left the hotel and took a cab to the bus station. It was about 40 minutes and provided us a cursory view of Quito. We found bus pretty easily (despite the charming people at the ticket counters yelling at us) and embarked on the 4.5 hour ride to Mera. Most of it was fairly nondescript, though scenic. The main towns we passed through were Latacunga and Ambato, both uninspiring. Then we reached Banos. Banos sits on the edge of an active volcano and is a total laid back hippy town that we intend to visit. The last hour of the bus trip from Banos to Mera is beyond stunning. The road meanders along a gorge that has waterfalls all around and incredible vistas. I've driven the Big Sur coast and I think this tops that as the most amazing drive I've been on. We got off in Mera, a tiny sleepy town. There we got a cab out of town along an incredibly bumpy road to the path leads to Merazonia. We were really psyched at this point. The hike is about 1.5km each way and before we even got half way Andrea got terrible blisters from the boots and then it started to rain. And when it rains it pours. I mean that in more ways than one. So after struggling through the hike and barely making it we got to take a shower and unpacked. It was then that Andrea noticed her camera was stolen. I can't explain how upsetting this is. She was obviously and understandably a wreck. For a minute there we were contemplating leaving then and there. We were careful but not careful enough. We figured that it had to have happened on the bus ride, even though her bag was at our feet the whole time. That's how quick and insidious these people are. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt and I'd like to think that if this person knew how much pain they caused then they might not have done it but I really don't know. I'd also prefer not to think that every Ecuadorian is a shifty camera thief but clearly we have to remain on guard at all times. But we're pushing on and we'll make the best of it.

Merazonia. We are smack dab in the middle of secondary jungle. This makes Algonquin seem like a joke. It'll take me too long to properly expound on my observations of this place so mainly I'll record what goes on in hopes that it'll trigger more insight when I'm home and then I'll write properly.

There are 8 people here and 3 dogs. Darwin is the biggest and scariest. He is essentially an adopted street dog from the Galapagos so he barks a lot and can come at you quite aggressively. He's basically harmless but it can be a little scary at times. The here are all very friendly and easy to get along with. They've definitely helped us adjust and it really is quite an adjustment. Frank, who owns the operates this area took us around today to show us how the feeding/cleaning goes. There are a couple different enclosures that house monkeys and a couple that house birds. Part of my adjustment is just to remember the names of the different species. Today was a bit of a struggle but I can feel it getting easier almost by the hour. Both Andrea and I got shit on by birds. After the afternoon feeding we went for a swim in the river. The water is moving really fast so we had to find a place to get in. It was cold but really refreshing. It's also incredibly clear and drinkable. That swim made us both feel a lot better and optimism is creeping in. This is definitely a character building experience'

Where to begin. First I should apologize for such stilted prose that's riddled with inconsistent tense.

That first experience in Quito was a total blur. We arrived super late at night, woke up at 8am to have breakfast at the hotel and then catch a bus that left around 10am. This was perhaps the most fundamental mistake we made on the trip. Not allowing time to acclimatize after the long travel. Instead we found ourselves in the middle of the jungle less than 24 hours after arriving. We would have been much better served if we spent a day or two in Quito before embarking to Merazonia.

Andrea's camera being stolen on literally our first bus ride was pretty devastating. That camera was really important to her and trying to deal with that loss was made all the more challenging given how isolated we were at the time and the fact that we still had 99.5% of the trip ahead of us. I suppose the only positive (and I use that term loosely in this case) was that she literally hadn't taken a single pic so at least this thief didn't steal any memories. I was/am mainly shocked at how brazen it was. The bag containing the camera never left our sight. Someone sat down behind us on the bus and reached under our seat and that was that. I shudder to think at what I would have done had I caught this person red handed because I would have totally lost it. Even now the thought makes me extremely angry. Sadly this happened a couple weeks later to another tourist on a bus we were on. Her bag was slashed with a knife. In talking with other travellers I got the impression that this kind of thing is more prevalent in Ecuador than it is in most other South American countries. After the initial shock I thought Andrea handled things remarkably well and from then on we always had our defenses on high alert.

Something else I notice in my writing is how upbeat I sound when talking about Merazonia. I think I was trying to convince myself that things were going well and didn't want to just dwell on the challenges. I'll write more on Merazonia itself in the next entry.

The cabs that they have in Mera are really just pickup trucks with covers over the back and benches to sit on. The reality is that only a 4x4 would even be able to traverse the unbelievably bumpy, rocky crevice filled road that leads out of town and up into the jungle. Easily the worst road I've ever been on. We were genuinely excited by this as it led us further and further away from any civilization and closer and closer to real adventure, our reason d'etre. The 1.5km trail into the park (all uphill I should point out) proved quite challenging. Andrea didn't wear socks under her waterproof boots and that quickly spelled trouble as she developed massive blisters on the backs of her ankles that very severe enough that they didn't heal until after we got back home. So she was in pain for almost the entire hike and about halfway through the torrential rain came down, as only it can in the jungle.

It's hard to imagine a more auspicious beginning, and that seemed to set the tone, at least for my Merazonia experience.

The Madman Within

I must admit a strong interest in the case of Russell Williams, the former top pilot in the canadian millitary and now confessed murderer/rapist/burgular/all around waste of a human being. His list of crimes so long as to almost seem redundant. Almost.

I find abhorrent behavior fascinating because I can't relate to it, but also because only the truly abhorrent can. Since I was young I've had an interest in serial killers, not so much on the crimes themselves or morbid details therein but in what motivates someone to reach such levels of depravity and how they are able, usually quite successfully for long periods of time, to hide this from others. The logistics, their process.

Though I'm no closer to understanding this, the questions I ask now are different. For instance: Russell Williams must have been acutely aware of his sick impulses, what if he had an outlet for them that didn't involve systematic terrorization and murder? Is this hypothetical outlet I speak of even possible? Before I can fully form an answer to that another pertinent question comes to mind: What, if anything, can citizens/government/law enforcement do to possibly stop someone like this in the future?

Maybe nothing. As someone who has only ever read about deranged minds from afar I really have no idea how entrenched or inescapable truly sick impulses are. For arguments sake (because my argument depends wholly on this) let's say that, at least in the case of Russell Williams, there was a tipping point. Not an exact time or place but some sort of formative period where he could have stayed on the path that led him to be a respectable human being for most of his life, but instead took a 180. I hypothesize this because so far the details seem to indicate that his descent, and certainly all of crimes, took place in the last 3 years alone. I say this with trepidation given what may later come to light, but it looks like he remained a law abiding and upstanding citizen until 2007. In looking at the totality of his existence, only a small fraction of it was spent undertaking heinous criminal activities. If he was 'normal' for so long, why couldn't or why didn't that continue?

I have to think that at least theoretically he could have turned out differently. I refer back to my question about having an outlet. I think if society can answer that question then there is a chance to stop predators like this. Perhaps it's naive to think that someone like Russell Williams, even if presented with some fictional outlet that sated his desires (sick as they might be) would chose that over the psychological and physical torture of real, live victims. Ultimately I'm just not comfortable with the thought that this was inevitable.

It seems far fetched to me that you could stop someone's brain from initiating depraved tendencies, but I know nothing of brain physiology so maybe that is, or can be, possible ala Minority Report. Surely there are many people who have twisted thoughts but never the inclination to act on them. Why wasn't Russell Williams one of them? What was/is different about him?

After all, it's the acts that we find most appalling. If he bought women's underwear from Winners and put them on and took pics of himself in his own home jerking off he wouldn't be arrested. There's no crime for being weird, there IS a crime for the manifestation of that weirdness into acts that harm others. Russell Williams became the later, but couldn't he have remained the former?

My desire to know answers to questions like that almost drive me to become a psychologist or sociologist, only in hopes of pinning down the elusive aspects of why certain members of our species wantonly wreak havoc and cause so much harm to so many other members of our species and if there is any way of preempting that.

Sadly i'm too often presented with interesting case studies.

Ecuador - Part 2

'April 19, 2010
So things have already taken quite a turn and we've barely embarked. We're now on a flight to Ft. Lauderdale because Andrea was held up in security just long enough for us to miss the Miami flight. So now we land at about 1pm and we're going to take a cab to the Miami airport to catch our flight to Bogota at 5pm. I think we'll make it and get back on track to arrive in Quito. All things considered things are okay and we're both in good spirits and embracing the adventure. So we continue on.

8pm local time here in Bogota. Flight #2 was not comfortable at all and that combined with our general fatigue made it quite trying. Getting from Ft. Lauderdale to Miami went smoothly and we had plenty of time to grab a bite and chill out. I'm so tired that I'm blanking mid thought and constantly having to reset where my mind is at. It's a scattered mess right now. The area of El Dorado airport where we're waiting is drab and offers little in the way of food and drinks. Technically I'm in country #3 today but it's pitch black and I'm sitting in an airport. It looks like we might be stuck here during our layover on the way home which would suck. We both really need to lie down. One more flight to go...'

it was definitely an auspicious start to our trip. all things considered it worked out just fine and other than the cost of the shuttle between the ft. lauderdale and miami airport it didn't affect us at all negatively. in fact, i was kind of glad to have a 40 minute drive thrown in there amidst the long day of airports. the flight from miami to bogota was super bumpy and generally not comfortable. then there was another wait of maybe 90 minutes before the 1 hour flight to quito. by the time we were in our pre-arranged cab to our hotel in quito it was nearly midnight and closer to 1am by the time we got to our room, after 3 flights, 4 countries and 18 hours of travel.

i spent the better part of my time down there trying to figure out what the time zone was relative to home and i could never quite figure it out. since i've come home i've ascertained that both columbia and ecuador are in the same time zone as home, however they don't have daylight savings. so same time zone except for the fact that it's not the same for 50% of the time. being so close to the equator also means that daylight is pretty much constant throughout the year so i found that it was getting dark by 6 or 6:30pm in ecuador and i'd come home to find it light out until almost 8:30pm.

the hotel was had in quito for that first night was nice, though the bed was a little stiff. we were only there for maybe 10 hours before leaving to catch a bus down to the park. we would soon come to regret being so hasty. more on that in the next entry.

also, in an odd twist the hostel we ended up staying at on our subsequent stays in quito ended up being on the exact same street as this hotel.

Ecuador - Part 1

3 months ago i travelled to ecuador for 30 days. during that time i kept a journal of my experiences. i wrote it such that it would provide me with a more detailed recollection of the trip and of my head space during that time. now, with the advantage of hindsight i intend to reproduce my journal notes. after each note i'll add an afterward where i'll add to the entry. i'll also add notes in parenthesis during the journal entries. so without further adieu...

'April 17, 2010
I wanted to make sure I wrote something before I left. Just to get some pre-trip thoughts. I'm just at work playing out the string. As I write I find myself in an air of calm amongst an otherwise blustery couple of days. It doesn't take a lot for me to feel overwhelmed these days and there actually is a decent amount going on right now. I think/hope I've left everything okay at work. All that's left is to hand my key over to SG and get outta here. After all this catching 3 flights and being in 4 countries in one day on Monday will be a piece of cake. I can't wait to be at the hotel in Quito on Monday night. I really need this adventure to give me a kick in the ass. I look forward to meeting you Ecuador!'

A fairly innocuous entry. Except for the fact that literally a couple hours later when SG arrived I was laid off. All things considered I wasn't too bothered about being laid off as I was going to be looking for another job when I got back. The only real downside was that I wouldn't have income immediately upon my return. This was my first foray into non-European travel and that generally made me pretty excited and interested in what I was going to experience. Not much else to say about this entry really.

.

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!

fat chance

today i went to tim hortons and i had a wallet full of change. i was buying coffee and bagels for my friend and i. our items came to a total of $7.19.

i had exactly $7.19 in change in my wallet.

also, i'm falling asleep to the rain and it's late december. it makes the fact that i'm only going to be getting a couple hours sleep seem like small pittance.

the darkness is playing over the stereo and is diffusing through the permeable membrane that is my bedroom door.

this is my life.