Random Thoughts

Originally uploaded
by ouyeaouyea.

Yesterday was the last time I will play and be graded for it at ubc, tonight I play in my pianist's recital, and tomorrow I leave for Seattle. It seems like everyone is going to Seattle right now. My beets, peas and spinach are all coming up, my sister has promised to water, I'm assailed by little wriggling worries that have been supressed due to time constraints and now finallly I have time to deal with them all. My summer courses are being obnoxious and changing scheduling times, I've realized that I need to find a job that pays more, but haven't had time to deal with any thought of what that could be. I have no idea if local music stores need oboe instructors, maybe? I have no idea how much I ought to be asking, I'm open to anything really, but I'm sick of making under ten dollars. It's just not worth my time, even if I am paid to do nothing, I could be practicing.

I read a supposedly academic paper the other day on plastic surgery and pop music. It made its point in a pretty plodding, unoriginal way, but it made little leaps that absolutely infuriated me. I may follow up some of the sources and then attack it randomly.

I've been Forcing myself to let go of things lately, and I feel better, sad, and happy at the same time. I feel very odd right now; my fridge is near empty, the house is clean, I'm half packed, there's that urge just not to come back and a desire to get rid of all my stuff again. Of course I won't, but I do resent the weight that possessions give. It is as easy as getting rid of them, and of course that's not easy at all, especially with instruments and momentos. My mom feels the same way, I think, constantly trying to get me to 'hold onto' her excess stuff. I gave away a bunch of her books at one point because I was tired of carrying them around, and had told her that I was going to do so...and it still comes up...how she misses them. bah.

Spent an enlightening evening with a cheese smuggler and cooked up much of my remaining spoilable foods yesterday. Odd how people can be completely unaware of how much they affect others sometimes. I have trouble recognizing when people aren't aware of the responses they create because I am often oversensitive to how I affect others to the point of ridiculousness.

I can't wait to start going swimming on a regular basis. I really am going to this summer too, because I have the mighty summer upass of Doom. Plus I have to do research for the fish house of course.

Music: Crabbucket - K-Os
Direction: Up

Posted by Beth at 1:16 PM | Permalink

Waiting for Godot left the expected empty hole in my conciousness, a void, if you will. Seeing the parallel scenes from R and G in reverse was nice, or something, too.

I can't say I liked the theatre staff or vibe very much though, it had a very strong sense of you must walk slowly and be conservative to it. Perhaps I just ran into a few nasty people, but I don't think so - there are ways of enforcing theatre rules without making your paying audience members feel unwanted and unhappy.

It took me a little to be pulled in, but I was, although I wasn't as affected by it as I expected to be; I kept wanting Ros and Guil, I've gotten too attached to their personalities to accept their alternates. Perhaps that's something. They are remembered, their personalities, their habits and failings, all remembered, all saved and cherished. They were more real to me because of the number of people playing them, each person adding a layer to the character without changing exactly who that character was. A constant thoroughfare of personalities in the same place, the same nowhere. We're all the same person in the same nowhere, with nothing to do and no way to affect the course of fate.

I remember Ros with his swinging hips in one scene, unavoidable charisma in another, confused ignorance or suspicious uninterestedness in another; Guil obsessively logical always, at once quietly obsessing and loudly musing, occassionally assertive but never sure...a player once himself and once a perfect vision of what he thought he was, and a background painting of characters so vivid they threatened to overpower the unassuming Ros and Guil, and possibly, just maybe, taking into account the fact that night may never come, and that South might be North, and that really, there's nothing for it...well maybe... if we don't forget... perhaps we'll know better next time.

Posted by Beth at 11:05 PM | Permalink

Originally uploaded
by Littleboyfound.

It's been a soft morning of music, studying and muted loneliness. I recently talked to my mother; she comments, as though it was something unusual, I'm always lonely. I wanted to shout Of course you are, so am I but she's more fragile than I am, exactly as fragile as I am, and she loves me, so I can't yell without hurting her. She asks me to understand; you know what it's like... and I reply I can't know what it's like, I'm not you. And yet I sympathize, and I have a feeling I might know what it's like in time.

Every night I dream, waking and not; stories that make me cry in way I'd forgotten. They're not past, future, or even present, but they still are, and I wouldn't ask them to go. I don't tend to do things that make me miserable for very long, and yet it's not because I don't want to, it's some other thing, maybe it's within me and maybe in circumstance, but I always fall out of things that don't work; I'm glad, as I've seen people who don't, and I'd not take their place. I often really want the things that don't work for me though, but I think it's just a misunderstanding between my understanding and my emotions. My emotions simply give me hints, and I have to interpret, and sometimes there's more than one interpretation.

I'm bothered by catch all definitions, I'm bothered by the fact that I tend to group behaviours into boxes with labels, and that I feel the need to put each person I know in a box. I don't want to do it, and yet I find myself doing it time after time. Why? I suppose we..need?..certain guidelines, but I don't like a lot of the ones we have, and yet they're the ones we have as a group, heaven forbid I use the word society, but whatever term you use, there are things that are considered acceptable I suppose. I don't like the response to other though, I'm sick of it, and it's in every group of people I know, perhaps not in every person, but we do form little tribes, and the face paintings of those people, over there, are different, and laughable, or maybe scary. I suppose it's ancient, I suppose it's all been studied before, but that doesn't mean I have to be a part of it on those terms. I had lunch with a bass clarinettist who laughed at me and said maybe you'll completely reconstruct the genre. I doubt it, I'm not so radical, but I wouldn't mind just being able to be quietly different without feeling completely lost.

Tonight I go to two parties, tomorrow I play in puddles, next week I see Waiting for Godot, Macbeth and write an exam. I am spoiled beyond belief and actually feeling pretty good.

Posted by Beth at 5:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Originally uploaded
by kendrick.

I remembered how to play the cello today. This amazes me, and makes me happy. I love having an instrument where it's ok if I go slowly and learn the technique before rushing into ridiculously hard music. I also love that I have a reed that is going to be perfect for my jury. It's going in my reedcase, and it's going to stay there till 2 days before.

My house has become stupidly clean, mostly because I use cleaning as my procrastination/break method while studying. Once again I have finished a course with Marshall feeling as though I could have done so much better. The material was there, the lectures were great, I just didn't put in the study time needed to get an A, and so I shall undoubtably be getting another middling B. He's coming to our knitting concert though, and so's his aunt. glee!

I played my poulenc piece for Morgan today, and it really showed me exactly what I have to fix in the next ten days. She liked the third movement though, which made me happy. I'm so excited about the knitting collective - yet again a concert that I felt was some sort of dream has become real. I like it when that happens. I'm already booking acts for Catfish again and I haven't even found out if I'm going to be here in the summer.

I can feel the summer urge to do a million fun things coming on, but I need to study for the last exam, or at least do the readings. haha. yes. I think I may actually allow myself to bake though, because since I had an exam today I'm allowed to waste the rest of the day.

Posted by Beth at 7:28 PM | Permalink

Originally uploaded
by Gosiak.

I had forgotten how much I love Dvorak's 9th, I also realised that the tune I always hum absent mindedly is the main theme.

I played a beautiful instrument a few days ago - an end blown flute, it had two holes and as a result played a drone when you wanted it to. It was gorgeously tuned and only 450. I considered it for a moment then laughed at myself. After I have an english horn maybe I'll start buying oddities. It reminded me of the flute I played at a folk fest in Victoria once though. That one was a transverse flute in G, more traditional really, and so wonderfully made - I'm used to trying wooden flutes and being dissappointed at the tuning and tone, but this one was beautiful - I had enough money too, it was only about $60, but they only took cash and my dad wouldn't lend me the money because he was in his father to the two year old who oddly looks like a 17year old role. I didn't persist, as I've always found asking for money extremely difficult anyways, but despite myself I kept talking about it as time passed because I had loved the sound so much, and eventually my dad felt so guilty for not loaning me the money that he ended up buying me two horribly tuned endblown flutes. haha. ah well.

Posted by Beth at 9:42 PM | Permalink

Originally uploaded
by ember_oboe.

I have a bunch of little guilts and worries going around, my cat brough fleas into the house because I forgot his stuff this month, so I need to buy some of the horrible stuff to get rid of them, I need to do stupid amounts of readings to get ready for the stupid first year exam, and I'm almost ready not to - I'll still pass, I just have no energy for that course, I also need to review for Marshall's course, which I am determined to do well in, and well, I suppose there is the one decision that I still haven't made about this summer. It might be made for me, which would almost be nice, but at the same time... ugh. I really am upset at the idea of missing this entire summer. There are so many wonderful things planned, and even with the two courses I would still be able to spend so much more time with people, which would be nice. I'll miss out on wreck, I won't be able to do catfish, although Alexis has decided she'll still go ahead with it, and I'll be leaving somewhere that really feels like home.

If I get in I will go though. It's too good an opportunity to pass up, but I sure will miss the people here. Ugh. I hate having things undecided like this. I wish they would let me know so that I can stop trying not to be worried about it.

I'm second guessing my decision to go right into grad school after I finish as well. I'm so afraid that I won't be good enough by the end of next year to get in anywhere, and while I know you can keep auditioning...I guess I'm just scared that I've spent all this money, and all this time, and I might end up not being able to get any job. My teacher was really worried that I wasn't getting at least an education degree.

...my first teacher, Marea, who is, in my opinion, an excellent player, still hasn't landed a job in an orchestra. She's teaching at kwantlen and doing auditions. There's nothing for it though, I chose not to have a safety net in the first year of college because I know that if you have one you end up landing in it without fail, so there's no reason to change that now. I just wish this feeling would go away so that I can be productive without feeling like I'm going to implode.

Posted by Beth at 10:53 PM | Permalink

Originally uploaded
by Junkmale.

I've become really intolerant lately, and I'm sure it's not a good thing. It's probably just the end of term stress catching up with me, but it's been happening for a while. Coming home today the conversation behind me drove me up the wall, I wanted to scream or tear something to pieces. There were a few girls asking this other girl 'how many times' she thinks of some boy a day. It wasn't even the topic really, so much as the timbre of their voices and the feeling I got of uncaring. I don't know, of seperating the us from the them, which, laughably, is what I do in regards to such girls as these..I am so inclined simply to give up on the human race occasionally. It's a good thing there are people who aren't ....well...offensive to me. hah. I'm being rather nasty, but I do so dislike certain personality types. grar.

fah. I need to go do work. maybe practicing will make me feel better. I thought venting would help, but there's really nothing to this feeling, it just is. Gr. I need a punching bag, and maybe some retractable clawlike blade thingies. ooooh, wouldn't it be fun to shred feather pillows....aaaaaah. ok. work. now.

Posted by Beth at 4:02 PM | Permalink

I'm getting very excited about my summer film course...wouldn't it be funny if I actually got into the NAO?

Brick was really good. I loved the framing on every single shot. I also liked the fact that it felt like another world, but very similar to ours, sort of like Plautinopolous. Things are the same, but completely unrealistic - I suppose this is true for most films, but it's been a while since I saw one where I noticed it so clearly. It didn't take away from the film at all though, rather added to it. I enjoyed that there were moments that were emotionally charged for the characters, and the audience could choose whether to be involved or not - no careful sucking in of our emotions, but just a story - compare and sympathise if you care to. I loved the music, it was perfect in every way and not overscored. None of the characters were particularily endearing, but that also made it better. It reminded me of a series of detective novels I read casually in grade 5-6 a pair of kids...not as well written as this, but just as unbelievable in that good way. hm.

I'm getting better at accepting compliments. It's a skill that I sadly lack. Also I'm starting to try to deal with people on a more regular basis - those that I go to school with even. I think I need to start actually interacting whether I want to or not. It's going to be neccessary. hmm. I do work better when my soul is dry, regardless of whether I want it to be or not. Time to go attempt the ridiculous again.

Posted by Beth at 9:53 PM | Permalink

Originally uploaded
by Porter/House.

Cheese curds are perhaps the most delicious thing I have ever eaten (well at this moment they are). I'm really excited about things that I have difficulty putting into words. I'm starting to feel as though I'm on the edge of being able to be an interesting performer. I feel like I'm starting to leave the written music, I'm starting to be able to walk into a room with two highly respected musicians sitting behind a table, and actually play half decently. I feel like I'm on the edge of something wonderful, but at the same time I can clearly see exactly how much work is going to have to go into getting to the next step. I'm terrified again, which is good.

I started to shake before playing the big solo in the Rodrigo today...but I played, and was actually able to get back to the music and away from the stupid nerves. I feel odd, because I feel that these first time experiences are so wonderful, and I want to talk everyone's ear off about how wonderful it is to be at a point technically where I can finally get back to the music again, but I feel an attitude, a sort of bravado, from most musicians that the proper way to act is as though you've done everything a thousand times, and talk about tone and tuning from a distance, it's similar to the British thing of 'stiff upper lip', and although I occasionally feel that a certain reserve is attractive, I just can't understand this jaded attitude from people who are students hoping to become professionals. I mean, they can't have played everything perfectly yet, can they have?

Having attended the second guitar recital that I've ever been to in my life today, I've come to the conclusion that guitarists are even worse than your average classical musician when it comes to talking to the audience. I mean...not even one word! I don't Understand!!! I thought we were trying to get people to come to concerts? I have a feeling it's a bit of arrogance about the music standing by itself, but I'm sorry, talk to the bloody audience, they came to hear you play! Even just a llittle bit about each piece, or anything! Gah. I am so sick of the traditional recital procedure. I want dancers and lights and costume changes and... gr. I mean, I like some things, and it's difficult to break out of the mold when you're spending every second trying to learn the music itself...but, I don't know, there needs to be more emphasis on performance if we're going to call this a performance art.

Music of the moment:Largo from the Concierto heroico - Joaquin Rodrigo

Posted by Beth at 8:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)