The Perfect Lunch Stop

I fell in love with this orange and grey commuter bike.

Ex Post Facto - the second state

I have so much to write, but it's been 3 states in 3 days and I'm going to sleep - more soon, I promise.

Bike Shop in Frederick, MD

Roadkill

Roadkill always reminds me of my own mortality.

To me, seeing animals abandoned on the side of the road is all the proof I need that there can't possibly be a G-d.

[And yet, I still feel obligated to use the hyphen; I'll always be Jewish regardless of what I say I believe, I suppose.]

I know the physical being isn't supposed to be connected to whatever heaven may or may not exist. Rigor mortis on the median has nothing to do with whether or not your soul is at peace...

But, where does it end? Is there a dog heaven too? And what about rabbits and bears and even bugs? Are we really so conceited as to think humans are the only ones worthy of a life after death? All other species just rot in the ground, but us - we are the chosen ones worthy of eternal blessings.

Right.

In my oh-so-humble opinion, I just don't see how it can all be reconciled.

And yet, maybe that's the point - maybe I'm not supposed to understand how it all works. Why, after-all, should I be the one to have it all figured out? I can guarantee you I'm no different than the person sitting next to me in at Gate D-24 in the Detroit Airport.

So, perhaps I don't need any so-called proof.

Because, you look at the sky and breathe in the air, and admire the many amazing people around you, and that's all that really matters anyhow.

And the roadkill? He's probably in groundhog heaven by now.

There are so many things I want to ask you.

But, I have a feeling it's a bad idea.

Grumpy Face

I stepped in gum.

I got myself out of the stupid, depressing motel room, and went downtown. And it was awesome - I found a blues festival (I didn't want to pay the $12 entry fee, so I sat outside the gates for about an hour, writing and listening), and then I just walked around. It was a perfectly pleasant evening, complete with sunset, cobble-stoned walkways, and burnt orange VW bugs.

And then I stepped in gum. I groaned, looked up, and caught a glance of myself in a shop window - and man... I was GRUMPY. I mean, really - my whole face was a huge freaking scowl.

And it was ugly.

So, I'm trying to wipe the shit-eating-frown off my face, and get on with my life.

But you know, it's been a crazy last couple of weeks, and I think I might be justifiably cranky this time around...

First, Alaska - which was AWESOME, but of course it can be exhausting to travel, especially for me, the reluctant tourist that would rather hang out with friends than go to the historic church or the new aquarium.

Then, Wednesday, fly into New Jersey, drive to Connecticut. Forget my journal on the plane.

Thursday, pack up all my summer stuff in Connecticut, drive to Philadelphia. Unpack into a new apartment. Get Princess Jasmine settled in her new home.

Friday, fly to Detroit. Rent a car, drive to Kalamazoo.

Saturday, audition in Kalamazoo - after first real sleep I've had since last Sunday night. Didn't advance. I hate auditions because they are pure bullshit, but no - I don't have a better system, and even if I did - no one would listen to me, because really - why should they?

Tomorrow, drive/fly to DC, Bike and Build starts. Ride bike from DC to Philadelphia (fundraising done, thanks so much all!), help with Rebuilding Together in Philadelphia.

Next Saturday night/Sunday morning - drive to Gloversville, NY to see boy.

And then it'll chill a little bit. I mean, boy and I are going to Lake Placid to volunteer for the IronMan, then we're going to Vermont, and then I'm going back to Gloversville, and then back to Vermont, and then down to NYC for the flute convention (yup. a flute convention.), and then I'll be able to move to Philadelphia for real - from one third floor apartment to another. Groan.

But... a lot of it will be with boy, and there will be time to hang out, and I'll be in places that inspire familiarity, instead of this constant feeling of displacement.

But yes, all these activities are great and I actually am excited and looking forward to every single day. It's just that in the midst of it all, I'm tired. I want to fall asleep with boy and wake up with my kitten purring next to me.

That'll all happen soon enough though, so for now? I'm smiling because the lacrosse boys are outside playing just for fun, and because I get to be on my bike for the next week, and because I'm pretty sure there will be some awesome church dinners along the ride.

But... the proctor said I played well?

Another audition done, and I didn't advance.

I played really well; I wouldn't have changed a thing. Nothing.

Even the proctor said 'Really nicely done, by the way', as she walked me out of the hall.

I just don't understand. What can I possibly do differently?

I feel so unbelievably trapped - trapped because I don't know what else to do with my life, and this whole playing for a living thing is obviously not quite working out. I'm 27 and haven't advanced in too many years.

Trapped in a cycle of audition ads and false hopes and everything crashing down after $500 and a 7 minute audition.

But also, trapped because I am a musician and I have no where to play.

And right now, I'm literally trapped in this hotel room. It's a beautiful day, but I have no where to go. If I go to another concert (and I could), I'd have to tell everyone there that I didn't get the job, and that's just embarrassing.

If I don't go though, I instead sit here on the half-made bed, while listening to the high school lacrosse players' mayhem in the surrounding rooms [never before have I seen such a beat-up group of boys], watching the sun go down through the window, and wishing I was someplace else.

Hell, anyplace else.

So maybe I'll stop my wallowing and drive myself downtown.

Or maybe I'll just go to the hotel bar.

This doesn't capture it all that well, but it was one of the most peaceful bike rides I've ever experienced.

If the sound is on, you'll be able to hear the birds in the background. And, way in the back (behind the clouds), there is a whole mountain range that my junky little camera didn't really do justice. Regardless though, Alaska is just beautiful.

Listening

I recently read a book entitled Stormy Applause. It's an account of being a musician, Jew, and Russian during the 1950s, written by a violinist from the world-famous Borodin Quartet. The book is out of print, but if you can get a copy, it's more than worth the time and money. We all 'know' the Soviet Regime under Stalin was awful, but when you hear the first-hand accounts of friends disappearing, opportunities stolen, and total life control, it puts a whole new perspective on where and how we live today - we're pretty damn lucky, you know?

In any case, since much of the book is based around a string quartet's experiences, I was once again reminded that I need to expand my musical repertoire beyond that which I can actually play. Wind quintets, other flutistic chamber music, and even symphonic music all have their good traits, but there is just so much amazing music out there that a flute cannot begin to conquer, string quartets being a genre of which I am particularly jealous.

So (even before I read Stormy Applause, but all the more so after finishing the book), I've resolved to listen to more music on a daily basis, and beyond that - go to more concerts. I need to once again feel like music is something besides work; it needs to also be fun.

And so last night, I got into Kalamazoo, MI, and after checking into my hotel, falling into a deep stupor for an hour+, and then practicing a bit, I met a violinist friend from CIM, and we went to a concert by the Pacifica Quartet.

I don't know all that much quartet music, but I did know the Shostakovitch and Dvorak that they played last night. The performances were interesting and energetic; I was always attentive and never got that bored, how-many-movements-left-NOW? feeling.

But, the best part was that there was no flute playing; I was able (for the first time in way too long) to just sit back and enjoy wonderful music by excellent players; there was no jealousy or jaded wonder (could I do it better?), or anything of the sort - it was honest listening, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The concert made me remember who I am as a musician, and why I'm still head-over-heels in love with music.

I could ride the ferry forever.

Like Finishing a Book

I read to turn the last page.

I eat to clean my plate.

I race to cross the finish line.

Music is different, but even so, sometimes I practice to simply learn a piece.

And at the end of the road? Only a feeling of slight satisfaction [combined with an overpowering emptiness] as I ask the inevitable 'Now what'?

Sometimes I worry that I'm going about life in the same way, and that as I'm turning the last corner, I'll once again ask that same question...

and only silence will be my answer.

Now what?

I miss the days...

I miss the days when this blog was more annonymous and I could write what I wanted.

I like that my friends and family can keep up with me by reading here (and I think I get a little hurt when friends say they don't read it at least occasionally), but at the same time, I definitely miss being able to say exactly what's going on in my life, without everyone and anyone knowing.

I guess the whole privacy thing is negated by publishing your thoughts on the internet, eh?

But you know... it's not really privacy that I miss - I like that people tell me what they think (I hate that Facebook has taken over blogging and commenting, to a certain extent), and I love meeting new people through the blogosphere.

So, it's not that I don't want people to read this - it's that I want the voice to be someone other than my own. I want to sit down and write from my heart and not feel weird the next time I walk into a rehearsal. I want my internet persona to be different than the actual, fleshblood me.

But, it's entirely too late for that now - so, here we go, I try to write what I'm thinking without revealing too much, without inadvertently hurting the people I love.

I miss the days of newness and excitement and absolutely no wondering or chastising.
I miss the days when she was a kitten.
I miss the days when I couldn't imagine skipping a workout.
I miss the days when my bestfriend was right next to me.
I miss the days when the sun shone in the middle of the night and the moon glowed red from another planet.
I miss the days of no one else in my field of vision.

I guess it's harder than I thought it would be to come back from Alaska. What the hell is wrong with me that I get all transition-funky after a 2-week vacation? You'd think I'd feel good about the next month and a half (bike and build [please donate, time is running out and I still have to raise $145], visiting boy, family vacation in vermont, starting a new job), but instead I just feel anxious.

I have an audition on Saturday, and I'm sure that contributes, but more than that - I just miss Alaskan days (and nights) way more than I thought I would.

Couchsurfing Friends

Thoughts when leaving Alaska

I often wonder what it is about improvising that scared me so much, although I suppose the answer is all too obvious. A lack of control, fear of the [un]expected, wonder of ultimate potential - all the way-too-ordinary aspects of myself that make me mediocre.

But, maybe I'm beginning to be okay with that mediocrity.

....

I've always found older people so much more interesting than people my own age. All of a sudden though, I enjoy people years younger; I appreciate the earnestness and genuine happiness or excitement. I wonder if that signifies my own maturity or if it's simply that I'm finally happy.

....

And then... then sometimes I remember and the pain is so fucking intense. I push him away because I can't bear anything else. I don't even remember who he really is (only the harshness of who I've made him), and I wonder why he still calls. Does he actually have accurate feelings of what we were? Is that even possible?

....

I'm in present tense again, and everything is great; I have the beginnings of a future I adore. I wonder about age and some kind of ultimate love capacity, but really - there is nothing to inspire complaint. I might sometimes wish I was with someone my own age, but that's simply because I'm impatient, and that's not really fair at all.

So for now, I just sit and relax and am content that things are going amazingly well. There is no need for the ceremonial freak-out; after-all, we're still counting months... and to be honest, it has been a fairy tale thus far.