I am playing a jazz gig with a rock band that I used to be in. The stage is in a covering slightly bigger than a pup tent. A somewhat large crowd, that includes some grade school children, watch us through the mesh flaps and translucent nylon. The gig takes place in the parking lot of a strip mall which I can say is the median of my two childhood neighbourhoods. When the gig ends, I hear one of the kids holler that he wants to meet me. He then hands me a homework assignment of his for me to autograph, which I can barely make out as it is scrawled in pencil on black construction paper. He then says he’s going to buy a book written by a musician that I wish to lionize. This book happens to be on sale at the gig. It is a collection of abstract expressionist paintings made with the materials you’d find at a classroom art centre table. This musician is also in attendance, though keeping a low profile. He walks past me and gives a sideways glance. The musician looks nothing as I remember him, and is younger than when I had first met him. In fact, this person is not the musician at all.
After umpteen hundred false stop/starts, Ableton Live will most likely win out over Max/MSP as my tooling-around-with-sound program.
David Gilmour’s latest book is quite good.
I could live forever in pages 5 -7 of Stick Control.
I’m finally “getting” the seventh chord.
Viewed: Death Bed; Colour Me Kubrick
Reading: Tommy Douglas by Vincent Lam
Listening: Touch Radio podcasts
Well, having several times attempted to try first year university courses in the slow, meandering path towards a possible degree one day, I now see why my mother waited until the kids had grown up to start hers: there’s no fucking time!
I recently dropped the only half-credit, one-night-a-week course in sociology. Perhaps, after having paid the requisite attention to work, family, hygiene, etc., I’ll now finally be able to start catching up on reading, music theory and guitar, HTML/CSS’ing, and, maybe (just maybe): Max/MSP tutorials!
Oh, yeah, and pecking out some thoughts a little less sporadically.
Let’s see how this goes.
Reading: 33.3: Wire Pink Flag
Listening: Fennesz/Daniell/Buck Knoxville
(Hat-tip/apologies to RR for the idea/reminder to post my recent media consumption again)