And isn't that what it's all about, anyhow?

I guess sometimes I don't really remember why it is that I'm doing all of this.

I don't understand why I'm 27 (god, that's getting close to 30), still don't have a stable job (although I have a freaking terminating degree), am in the midst of a complete and total panic about how the hell I'm going to pay my damn bills next month (am seriously considering part-time prostitution), and why I locked myself in a practice room for 2 hours yesterday when I'm in Boulder, CO, a place where, by all that is correct and holy in this world, any functional human should be outside, enjoying the mountains, clean air, and lack of traffic.

But then, last night (and really, all of yesterday), I heard music that was so amazingly beautiful, played by such great musicians, to a completely captive audience... and that's when I realized (again): I really do love this; this hell, this torture - it touches my soul in a way few other things can even approach. And there is no limit - it goes so deep down that I just want to soak it up and die, because could there really be any better way to go?

I got to spend yesterday afternoon sitting next to George Crumb, talking to him about his music, and adding input during rehearsals. It was, for lack of a more appropriate word, awesome.

I'm not even really sure how it ended up happening, except that there were some (here's that word again) awesome faculty members who made sure I was able to talk to him for a while during his lunch break, and before I knew it, he was asking me to sit in on his non-stop schedule for the afternoon, and how could I possibly turn that down? He now has a copy of my Lecture Recital paper, and he wants to stay in touch once we're both back in the Philadelphia area.

And you know? He might not be able to get me a job, but getting to know him, even a little bit, was so much better than a stupid pay check.