I know this won’t last forever, so I’m indulging in these little rituals. Trying to enjoy all the little things I started taking for granted, like car rides at night when the roads are clear and the car is warm. I’ve lost myself in the shuffle. I know I need to recentre myself, but I’m waiting for things to settle down first.

There’s so much I don’t say to my friends. Not because I don’t trust them, but because my news never feels important enough to bring up. It’s stuff they stopped talking about years ago, cause they’ve moved on from this part of their lives. Well I’m still here, hoping everything’s going to work out in the end.

Martial Coup: Put X 1/1 white Soldier creature tokens onto the battlefield. If X is 5 or more, destroy all other creatures, and win a box, a booster, a pack of nice lands.

I realized that I don’t spend that much time with my core group anymore, but I do hang out with a revolving group of friends. It seems like there’s always another person to catch up with, another meal to share, another night of gaming with the guys. It’s keeping me occupied, for which I’m thankful lately.

Otherwise, I’ve been thinking a little bit about the past and a lot about the future. Trying to picture where I’m going to end up, but it’s never something I can figure out.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | No comments
Post tags: busy, friendship, reflection | Categories: Photos, Random

On my quest to unlock such a puzzle, I discovered Final Fantasy performing a Bloc Party cover of This Modern Love, what is now my favourite song of all time¹, having dethroned Blonde Redhead’s Elephant Woman of the honour it held for many years. It strips me bare by layers and layers, and even though the lyrics found relevance in my life before I decided that distance would keep me sane, it’s only in recent months that it’s gone from being a song I never skip to a song I always play.

To be able to see how Owen Pallett reproduces it with only a violin, a loop pedal, and his characteristically frail voice is a particular treat. Not only because he can draw the same intensity in me as in the original version, but because you can see how it’s done; what part he keeps to present the listener with the essence of the song, what he’s changed to fit the tools he uses, and even where he takes his breaths. It’s like finding an elegant solution for a puzzle that has perplexed you for years.

But I’ve yet to sit down and attempt any serious covers of my own cause I’m still waiting for my musical knowledge and guitar ability to catch up with what I want to accomplish. I’ve been learning classical pieces for a better foundation, and in that pursuit I came across this particular version of La Catedral.

I enjoy classical music (though I’m really picky) cause it can evoke a specific emotion in me, but most pieces cater to only one emotion at a time, or there’s a lot of development before the part I really like. La Catedral, on the other hand, has it all, from sorrow to elation, and every bit of it is bliss. I’m convinced that this is how the old Paraguayan guitarists rocked out with their cocks out, and it amazes me how someone could write such heavy emotion when there were no metal idols, no amp distortion, no screaming back then.

I’d say that for anyone to fully understand me, they’d have to understand this song too. It represents everything I love about music and emotion and sex, cause it’s all in this song, and only Denis Azabagić plays it the way it was meant to be played². When watching this for the first time, I remember thinking that I would make love to this man, this man who looks like some guy’s uncle, because he plays like he’s touching every nerve of my heart.

I love the way he moves with his guitar, the way he cradles the body, the way he purses his lips or widens his eyes with every swelling of passion. To be able to play like him is is exactly why I started taking up guitar; I want to feel as good as those who lose themselves to the music, and learning this piece has become another thing I hope to do before I die.

1. As a person who listens to almost any genre but is still obsessively selective with music, saying that I have a single favourite song is a big deal.
2. I never liked this song until I heard him perform it, the last 45 seconds in particular, with his orgasmic finish. Every other classical guitarist uses pauses that break up the flow of what are supposed to be relentless sixteenth notes, to the point where it feels like the entire song is ruined.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | 4 comments
Post tags: goals, music, sex | Categories: Random

I feel so disconnected from the world lately. It’s not like I don’t have friends who care so much that they make me feel unworthy of the attention. I just don’t relate to anyone around me. People with their lives on rails when I feel as uncertain as ever. It’s like I haven’t joined their world yet, this world of stability and regularity, where everything just falls into place.

Do pixie cuts ever make up for smoker’s hands?

I watch the movies that used to stir the depths of my emotions, listen to the songs that would grab my heart and clench to the beat in hopes that I’ll feel something more than this. Every night, every snowfall, every photograph is telling me that something needs to change, and I’m left trying to figure out what or when or how it’s going to happen.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | 7 comments
Post tags: music, reflection | Categories: Photos, Random

It’s a sign that instinct has taken me over. I do what I want, and I’m starting to suspect that you’re an adult when that also happens to be the right thing. Not when you hit an arbitrary age, or have kids, or a career, or a house. It’s when you start to take control because part of growing up is understanding that you’re responsible for the results in your life. When you discover that there’s no room in this place for old-school romantics, so you’ve gotta play the game. When you lose your innocence after accepting that the world isn’t the way you thought it was or the way you wanted it to be.

Still, it’s unsettling to be venturing ahead amidst such uncertainty. I’ve learned that you can’t wait for everything to be perfect in your life before taking a risk, or you’ll be waiting forever. There will always be cycles of stagnancy and change, calm and storm, hurting and healing. I don’t mind the changes, but part of me resents the innocence lost. Quixotism has always been a part of me, something that’s defined so many of my thoughts and passions and work. It’s like I’ve lost a part of myself — and a part I’ve always liked — to messages unreturned and the days in between.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | 8 comments
Post tags: growing old, reflection, self-evaluation | Categories: Random

That High Fidelity is the new (500) Days of Summer.

That it’s nice to be needed.

That I still wonder if I’m forgotten.

That it’s not so much that I don’t have anything to write about, but nothing ever seems important enough to put down on paper nowadays.

That food poisoning is like a laxative for both ends.

That I’m allowed to miss her.

That it’s okay to think others are cute too.

That I’m doing the whole Swingers thing with Lisa, where she’s trying to convince me I’m a big fucking bear.

That I can’t read signals.

That it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re invited, as long as you’re happy where you are.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2012. | 8 comments
Post tags: cats, pieces of me | Categories: Random, Video

Sometimes I take the bus, walk our paths, sit in our old haunts. Hoping to catch you at a distance, so I can see how you’re wearing your hair and know you’re okay. Strangers on a train, hoping in my head that you’d sit and talk to me so we can laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all.

Sometimes I find these pictures of you I don’t remember taking, in glasses I don’t remember you ever wearing, in places I don’t recognize. A strange gap in my mind in an otherwise vivid set of experiences, and I wonder if on that day our bodies ever touched.

And while I’m sure some would blame these thoughts on the season or the breakup, the simple truth is I never realized how alone I was until the phone rang today, and I haven’t taken a breath since.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2011. | One comment
Post tags: lonliness | Categories: Random

Liz lists some of her favourite things as her hubby, her pups¹, her shoes, and her Apple products, so I included little bits of each to give it a personal touch. I also kept the grading crisp and clean with colours that pop out of the screen to match Liz’s style of vibrant photography, of which I’m a huge fan. My main goal, however, was show how fun it is to be one of her subjects because she has a perpetual smile and bubbly personality that puts anyone at ease.

1. She’s Ottawa’s own dog-whisperer, and it may be safe to say that she loves dogs as much as I love cats, perhaps even a little more.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2011. | 4 comments
Post tags: projects | Categories: Random, Video

Don’t try to make life a mathematics problem with yourself in the center and everything coming out equal.

—Anatole

Sometimes it feels like I’m being punished for a crime I never committed.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2011. | No comments
Post tags: pain, sadness | Categories: Random

 

I always think of exile in times like this, and in particular, a stanza from Yevgeniy Onegin:

From all that to the heart is dear
then did I tear my heart away;
to everyone a stranger, tied by nothing,
I thought; liberty and peace
would serve instead of happiness.

Luckily, I’ve been reading The Poisonwood Bible, which reminds me that the only problems I have are first-world problems, and that I’m rich in ways many will never be.

I find it amazing, the immensity of it, how any single person can be responsible for a tome of such rich storytelling, observation, and wit. It’s the only book I’ve picked up in years, and I only started reading to get into her head as much as possible (and piqued by my curiosity on how she could describe a story of the Belgian Congo as sexy). Unsurprisingly, her favourite character is the strong, faithful, warrior daughter. Mine is like me too; the dark, brooding, intellectual child, dizygotic twin to hers. It makes me wonder if liking one character over all others is too often an exercise in vanity.

In the end, Onegin realizes he was wrong about exile, that he couldn’t fill himself with emptiness to replace the sadness, something he only figures out when he finds someone worth loving. That’s what’s pulling me back too, keeping me grounded amongst those dark moments of untempered emotion. I carry the image of her smile with me, the only thing as distinguished on her face as her Spanish eyes, and the reason I call her Cheeks from the way the flesh pulls up to round her face. I’ve studied this smile for so long that I can see it every time I close my eyes, and with that, I carry a strength of my own too.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2011. | 2 comments
Post tags: autumn, books, loneliness, seasons, women | Categories: Daily Life, Photos, Random

I’ve had Byron for about a month now, and he’s already been a great companion. He hasn’t warmed up to sleeping with me at night, but he frequently sleeps in my lap, and follows me around the house, even going so far as to lie on the bathmat to watch me whenever I’m making a nice BM. He also rarely stops moving, which makes him especially difficult to photograph. Like Dolly, he can be quite a vocal cat, and will meow repeatedly when he knows he’s about to be fed or if I call his name.

 

I can tell he’s already grown in the short time I’ve had him. It’s always fun to see how all the parts of kitties develop at different rates; right now he has big ears and a full tail, though his big mitts are more likely due to his breed. His face is also quite mature, though it isn’t particularly striking or unique.

the kitten formerly known as Bart

It was a bit of process before I finally had Byron in my possession. Since I got back from my trip to Europe, I’d check the Humane Society website a few times a day, and when I finally saw a suitable kitten¹, I drove down to the shelter, only to find this kitten being adopted right in front of me. Seeing as how I’d made the drive across town, I stayed to look for other candidates. There I found myself in rooms filled with adorable little kitties, some of which jumped in my lap and licked my hand and did other things which generally made them impossible to put down. Unfortunately, none of them were exactly what I wanted, and since this was a decision that would potentially stay with me for the next 20 years, I knew I should try another time for the right one. I’d never felt more like a responsible adult than when I walked out of there empty-handed, after having had my heart set on going home with a new kitty.

Eventually, I saw a mackerel tabby on the website with wild markings and a somewhat stocky frame, so I drove down to the Humane Society right away. There they had him in a cage with another kitten, asleep at first, but soon anxious to be let out when I got his attention. When I took him out, a brief inspection revealed that he had a beautifully lush coat and an alert demeanor, and I could tell he was the right one not long after a bit of playing.

As part of the adoption process, I was asked all sorts of questions. Any cat lover would be able to tell it was actually a screening test, cause some of the questions were traps, like “I am adopting a cat to a) keep my current cat company b) keep me company”. When reviewing my form, the adoption worker said, “You know all the right answers, don’t you?”, and soon I had him in my car, heading home in the summer heat.

a new name

I wanted to name this new kitten after a hero, but Ulysses or Lermontov or Nabokov didn’t feel neutral enough for a cat, likely cause those names have specific connotations for me. I settled on Byron after realizing Lord Byron had influenced some of my favourite writers, and I’ve always loved the idea of the Byron hero (even going so far as to fancy myself one in my foolish youth).

how's everybody feline

My battle with fleas and upper respiratory infections from the last adoption left me paranoid, so I kept Byron in quarantine a full two weeks. Thankfully, Byron hasn’t had any ailments, and he’s already adjusted to the rest of the house. I’m only now realizing how much of a sickly cat Leonard was in comparison.

At first I thought he had asthma cause he would pant within five minutes of playing², but now I think he just pushes himself when he plays. The fact that he has a hard time keeping track of toys without bells or jangles leads me to believe he doesn’t have very good eyesight, though he has great hearing to make up for this. He follows the bag of treats cause it makes a nice little rattle, but can’t figure out where the actual treat is when it’s in my hand.

there's nothing more dangerous than an intelligent cat

The fact that Byron’s a smart cat means he easily gets into trouble. It’s hard to stop him from going on the forbidden countertops or playing with things that are too valuable to be kitty toys. Luckily, that also means he understands punishment sooner³. He’s also good at learning the paths of where I like to run his toys, and knows how to lead his targets.

new siblings

One of Dolly’s favourite spots is on the chaise, so I lay this kitty blanket out to prevent too much hair from building up on it. She loves sleeping on it, even when Byron has stolen her spot.

Dolly hasn’t been herself since I brought Byron home. She keeps running away whenever I bring her to bed with me, and she doesn’t purr at all, which is particularly out of character for her, as she used to do so when you only gave her a long enough look. She’s started warming up to me again though, and I hope it’ll get better over time.

Leonard was too innocent to understand that Dolly growling meant he should stay away. Byron knows enough to leave her alone, so even though his inclination is to try to sleep with her, he doesn’t try to very often. Unfortunately, he also has a tendency to bite in a playful manner, which can really annoy her and quickly escalate into a fight, but it always remains play fighting. At first I kept breaking them up, but realized Dolly hasn’t gotten this much exercise in years.

1. He was male, around 3–4 months old, no health issues, with the right face, colours, and pattern.
2. I could rarely get my other cats to pant, and if they did it usually took at least 20 minutes.
3. It took Leonard a good two months before he learned not to eat from Dolly’s dish, but with Byron it only took two days

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2011. | 10 comments
Post tags: Byron, cats, Dolly | Categories: Photos, Random