proteanme

Listening to Glenn Gould’s Goldberg variations and thinking about how the intimacy with a body of work, such as all books by an author, or a group of paintings by an artist, or in this case, a group of variations by JS BAch, informs you, how it adds meaning to your life. To practice and play these pieces over and over I’d imagine you’d experience a range of emotions – frustration, joy, satisfaction, boredom, ecstasy, sadness, etc. I’ve always been curious about one’s ongoing relationship with a specific body of work and what that means over time.

No Country for Old Men. Blew my ass away and I’m not trying to be clever. I’m glad I didn’t read the book. I just barely scanned reviews. The Coen brothers stepped back and made something without the mark of Coeness on it, if ya know what I mean. It was stunning. Roger Ebeert said, “This movie is a masterful evocation of time, place, character, moral choices, immoral certainties, human nature and fate.” I thought this was a much more challenging film than I’m Not There. I immediately want to see it again. Next up – There Will be Blood.

I love grocery shopping, in part because of how much I love food and cooking, but also in part because Portland is home to the best local grocery chain I’ve ever had the pleasure of shopping at. New Seasons rocks it because they are friendly, they support local farmers, offer organics as well items like Coke and Oreos, employ a knowledgeable staff who can make good recommendations about what’s in season, what wines go with what, etc, and are more than happy to let you sample all sorts of stuff. I had an interview there a number of years back and could have had the job, except it was more technical support for electronic devices like scales, card swipes and registers than it was web development. So it wasn’t a good match. Anyway back to today. It was an especially nice excursion because it appeared to be foxy lady shopping day. Good lord, it was impossible not to be distracted by the wide variety of hot women in nearly every aisle. I’m not even sure I got all the items on my list, but I don’t care as I rode home happy nonetheless.

I mean really, damn. “I gotta have some of your attention give it to me.”  You got it.

I’m going to regularly post MP3’s of songs I wrote by myself or ones I wrote with Matt. This week is one of mine, from my solo project, Buddy Love. It’s an oldie, maybe 5 years ago; anyway here it is: Her secret Theory. (RU if you check this out, please note I’m not feeling particularly nostalgic, but it’s nice to hear this none the less.)

A day spent creating clipping paths and faking finishes in Photoshop is good practice for all the other tedious tasks I have tackle, like doing the dishes, cleaning the litter box, putting away clean clothes, taking out the compost, etc.  Actually, sometimes when my work day seems to be filled with more tedious tasks than interesting ones I try to take the approach of how can I do this tedious task to the absolute best of my ability.  So how can I create the best fake of brushed nickel?  How can I do a clipping path using as few anchor points as possible.  It’s an interesting practice that sometimes leads to lots of satisfaction and acquiring new skills. Sometimes.  Not always.

What if the world does not have intrinsic meaning? If life has no inherent purpose? If the universe isn’t really that interested in me? Is that really so bad?  If the onus is on me to create significance, to create substance –  isn’t that a life?  Isn’t it that I’m not special, but being alive is special – so live mother fucker.