Monday, August 25, 2008

while i lie sick in bed, as gloomy as one can be

I've started practising piano again. Well, that's not exactly true, since I only practised semi-seriously on Friday and haven't touched the piano since, but it's a start.

So I revived the Scriabin, that which I hold so dear to my heart, and as I played through it, I could hear my teacher in London dictating to me, do this, do that, fingerwork here, keep the 2 against 3 more precise, along with the weathered touch of abused Steinways, the dangerous air she carries around with her (Bulgarians are very fiery, don't you know), and with it, the taste of winter, the scent of tobacco, and the weight of innumerable (often very painful) hours spent in the name of chasing perfection.

I am determined to practise piano more often, for my fingers are so weak that it breaks my heart. But it's not going to be easy. For one thing, all my time goes into preparing for lessons (this entails reading many articles and trying to digest them), coming up with worksheets and answer scheme, marking, coaching students, going through their harmony portfolio, etc etc, not to mention the detested other subjects that I have to teach, and many other nonsensical things that a teacher has to do in order not to get a D grading. Which is counter-productive, if you know what I mean.

I miss so many things from my days at Kings. Not that I am not reconciled to the loss, you know, but there is still hope that something will be worked out in the near future.

We will see, but through seeing, will probably never see.

Monday, August 18, 2008

strange days are upon us/me.

A case of having too many deja vus, the sense of doing something that I have already done before whilst asleep, while I lie sleeping, in dreams, you see. Of course, I might be wrong, and also, I might be right.

It just leaves me feeling decidedly queer, and a little despondent, for there will be no end to the number of signs I deign to see or claim to remember. I trust yet suspect my feelings, and then, there is nothing.

I was talking to M for a bit today, and there seems to be a certain energy going around, one that makes us woefully nostalgic, the anguished yearning for a time that once was ours but no longer. Still, I probably speak for myself when I say this, but since when have I ever not done so?

I have so much work to do, so many commitments that I don't have time for myself, no time to do the things I want to do, and the seams are coming apart from the accumulation of past imprints whose origins and nature I know not, only that they are there, waiting in line, looking over my shoulder.

And then, the insidious pressure from those silent walls, that hoard all speech and brook no (recorded) thought, such is the jealous blanket of gray heard through the clear glass of day.

Friday, August 15, 2008

as i see and not see, as i hear and not hear

i shall learn, amid much wrenching of heart, for the distant present, and dislocations past.

Monday, August 11, 2008

5 min break.

College is getting crazy, but fun. Probably because I'm seeing the kids more often after that sick bout, and incorporating more performance in lessons. It's easy to get lost in the quagmire of endless articles, we've to return to the music once in a while.

It's Mozart's String Quartet now, K. 421. Mozart is God. So is Beethoven, Verdi, Berg and many others, I suppose.

Okay, time to continue marking scripts. Sigh.

blueprint

I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator.

fresh monodies

Old wounds hurt most, I learned this today, becaus...
She speaks, repeating the old litanies, of worn ac...
time skips
and it all comes together!
beethoven's symphony no.7 2nd mvt
again,
towards that something
In the alley of shadows and death
Masking Tape
another end of the world

previous rants

August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
November 2010
January 2011
February 2011
August 2011
October 2011
May 2013

treatises on life

arty jen
betty boop
carmentica
charming-linn
chasing snowy cars
cheeky lynn
cheryliciously glam
clean and cute
cyclist-mad bass
darling dominic
feisty jing
fellow ditz-sista/porkSTAR
hail mary!
hell's kitchen
hero on the beach
h-Euge heart
hunky lenny
lipgloss queen
little cheryl
live n learn, baby
lolita lou
loony loon
mr popular
musically dan
m y s t j
phringe
princess tania
roger smurf
runaway pigeon
sabotage king jeremiah
sibling angst1
sibling angst2
spector dan
spunky tian
steffy bunny
sun-sunzzz
teeny wee-nee
weeeee, leonard!
yangtze yang'en

frivolous pursuits

for shallow ppl
for very geeky ppl
for the truly bored
spun prose
binary thoughts
past imprints
some stamps
montage of images
other memories

mulling over

And there were phlegmatic souls.