November 23rd, 2003

dark, moody, cold, moved, off-kilter

"there is no mystery to her other than what she really looks like"

Garnish : So where to?
Adhara : i'm going to sit down for a second and stop hating mankind

I need to work on that too, though it doesn't help these good intentions I suffer from when I have repeat encounters with flagrant stupidity. People have just plain been getting on my nerves lately. (Also, partially for memory's sake and partially to give an example of stupid people, I would advise that you folks not throw rocks at me when Livinghole is around.)

Reading about Picasso puts me to sleep. Given that he's supposed to be quite dramatic, offensive, and revolutionary, is that normal? While in this brief unintended interlude inspired by Picasso, I had a horrible dream ... I had to climb ever higher, higher, supported by nothing. I clung as best I could to the nearly vertical surface, realizing over and over again the weakness of my grip. I tried to pull my dead weight to a safe place but was betrayed when the limited handholds proved false or even more insubstantial than they first appeared ... the rock was too smooth or crumbled beneath my hands, the wooden planks were not fastened to anything other than themselves. They ripped away when I reached for them, and I felt like my form was dragging me to a terrible, frightening fall.


We are currently having rehearsals for the big holiday concert here, and though most people complain about having to sacrifice at least two hours at night, I don't mind. This is something I love to do ... I love working on music with a group, appreciate hearing the sound grow and improve, and I feel as though I've gotten something done. The focus I can have during that time means a lot to me. Because I care about it so much, I've developed a rehearsal ethic that is matched by very few. I am not there to meet others. I am not there to talk. I am there to work towards a common goal.

Although I've sworn off being irritated by the different work habits of other people in regards to choir, I find that's a hard pledge to stick to. After an hour and a half, I often just want to turn around and tell them to shut the hell up - save your complaining about the music or about the length of rehearsal until we're out of rehearsal. Pay attention. Stop laughing when others are singing. Don't distract me with your whining. Don't waste my time.

But based on past experience, they'll bitch right back at you ... so I bite my tongue and look ever more intently at the director, hoping for what will probably never occur with some of these people: sweet silence.


Over the past few weeks, I've realized that I have a very possessive nature. I'm feeling it very strongly now ... about space, about people, about work, about effort. If the Concert Choir does not get as much to sing as the University Choir does, jealousy resurfaces within me. If it appears that a friend is growing more partial to someone else, my stomach knots and I have to remind myself of the other person's virtue. If someone else is doing something that could be part of my job, I get annoyed. When I no longer feel assured of my spot in regards to this, that, or the other thing, I become more irritable. After awhile, I want to be alone ... but that just makes me crankier.

Right-o, back to vanGogh. I am going to get this forking paper done!
  • Current Music
    "Last of the Mohicans" soundtrack