equivocality » Thoughts

nothing gold can stay

Jeff — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 02:29:16 +0000

The tears and the smears on my glasses which I look through to type this are telling me I’m still not over her. Or perhaps, the idea of her, because she had always held back a part of herself from being mine completely.

This is what happens when a true friend stabs you in the front. I guess I’ve been avoiding these thoughts for a while now, and confronted with them in conversation, the reality has never been more clear.

I’m still a broken man.

Even with the mixed signals, the inconsistency, and the pain, it was still the most significant relationship I’ve ever had, and that’s what makes it so hard to let go. My other relationships may have been free of all the drama, but they also lacked the depth, intensity, and intimacy.

There’s nothing I would have changed but the end, which dragged on for a year, one suture ripped out after another. It was far from a clean break, and anything but resolution.

I know I wasn’t the only person to go through the pain of separation, but the break wasn’t supposed to last forever. I was willing to step away so I could heal and be strong enough to be friends in time, to be there for her, to be ready to accept the next guy. And most importantly, I was willing to come back.

She was supposed to be strong enough to let me go until I was ready.

I believed her.

Why couldn’t it have ended that night, instead of the mindfuck that continued for months after? Why couldn’t the last thing for her to leave me be the letter she wrote on the stationary I gave her? Why couldn’t she have kept the promise she made to do whatever it took to keep me in her life, and stayed away?

We haven’t seen each other in over half a year. It’s been even longer since we had an actual conversation. It’s time for me to wake the fuck up. It’s time for me to deal with my emotions and the reality of the situation. It’s time for me to move on instead of holding on. It’s time for me to understand that I’ll never be what she needs, and she’ll never accept me as I am.

It’s time for me to realize that it’s over.

29 9/12: The Rocker

Jeff — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 23:13:21 +0000

Music has always been a big part of my life, so it’s strange to consider the fact that I only seriously took up an instrument the year I’m turning 30, which I generally consider late to be starting anything new.

I used to play piano and flute, but that was never really my choice. For the former, it was more of my mom wanting me to be a good Chinese boy, and me not wanting to let her down. When it came to the latter, my school had a strong emphasis on arts, and either visual arts or music were mandatory. I chose music¹, and played the flute; far from ideal for a teenager going through puberty and an identity crisis.

I bought my first ukulele a few months ago, and I don’t think I’ve stopped playing since.

Jammin’ in my jammies. With what may possibly be an erection.

Photo by Jess.

So much of my life has been filled by those four little strings. It’s an entirely new medium I’m still exploring, a muscle I’d yet to flex, a way of expressing myself that’s so unlike any of my other outlets.

I get pains in my fingers and wrists from playing too much, so I structure my life around the breaks; doing laundry, writing, cleaning my room, sorting my paperwork until the tingling or pinching goes away. The pads of my fingers are dead. I used to fall asleep thinking of her — now I work out scale patterns and chords across the fretboard in my head until I pass out. I even decided to make the ultimate commitment and grow out the nails on my strumming hand because the longer they get, the more pleased I am with the sound (and I find both long nails and asymmetry absolutely disgusting).

It’s come to the point where I’d rather play ukulele than play games, or go out, or talk to people. I love playing so much that I enjoy it even though I’m still no good at it.

I turn 30 in three months, and music is my hot hot bath, my dead end, and my girlfriend.

The Turning 30 Series

Ironic that I’m so much more of a visual artist now.

© Jeff @ equivocality, 2010. | 3 comments
Post tags: growing old, music, reflection | Categories: Photos, Random, Thoughts

Protected: The Process

Jeff — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 12:47:36 +0000

Collab

Jeff — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 11:38:54 +0000

This is pretty much the most awesome situation I can think of. A jam session with Nic on beats and bass, Jesse rapping and on organ + glockenspiel, Audra on clarinet, and me on ukulele. Figuring out what sounds best, modifying arrangements, practicing until it feels right.

The night was actually a rehearsal for Jesse’s upcoming Canadian living room tour, the last stop of which is in Ottawa, at the same place I first met Jesse and Audra and Jacob.

Because Jesse’s sister is only available on the eastern tour dates, that left a spot for one instrument on the final tour date, which I’ll excitedly be filling with my ukulele. It’s only for three songs (and singing one part of a three part harmony) but it’s going to be so much fun.

Download audio file (video-camera.mp3)

Here’s Jesse singing and rhyming and conducting us and playing the glockenspiel at the same time. It’s a new track off his upcoming album with an obvious theme about video, except in this version he made an arrangement of Video Tape by Radiohead and VCR by The XX to bookend the verses. I’d never heard VCR, so Jesse had to teach me the chords on the fly.

I recorded this on my iPhone so I could practice on my own; I won’t have a chance to see them for another rehearsal before they go on tour. I’d never heard the song before, and it was our first time playing it through together but everyone knew when to stop. It felt completely natural. We were communicating without words, our instincts culminating in that wonderfully solid unison.

Even though I’m still rusty, it felt amazing to be playing an instrument with other people again. And this time with material that’s fucking genius, not the same old conservatory pieces some teacher chooses for you. At one point I was playing around on the ukulele when Jesse had to get the phone, and Nic started putting beats to what I was doing and it made me want to steal Nic for all my practicing.

See Jesse Dangerously in your town:

Friday, July 23rd — The Bird House in Halifax, NS — 6156 Duncan Street, 10:00 p.m.
Saturday, July 24th — The Galley in Fredericton, NB — 1–178 Westmorland Street, 7:00 p.m (with feminist/anti-capitalist gumboot troupe Rebelles).
Sunday, July 25th — Gallerie Rye in Montreal, PQ — 1331a Rue Ste Catherine Est, 8:00 p.m (with the vegan ukulele of Nicola IV).
Monday, July 26th — 160 Workshops in Ottawa, ON — 160 Primrose Avenue, 8:00 p.m. (with electronic/acoustic singer-songwriter Jacob Earl).

29 8/12: The Son

Jeff — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 03:32:45 +0000

There’s no revelation more startling than the fact that your dad is cooler than you.

This is especially true of my own father, who isn’t just cool for an old guy, he’s cool period. As a teenager, I remember him wearing a leather bomber jacket, and learning to ride a purple Kawasaki Ninja sport bike which he eventually traded in for a silver Porsche.

When I was even younger, my friends would tell me he looked like a secret agent. One time he came to help me move out of residence, and his jeans had wider cuffs than mine (and back then I loved wearing wide-leg khakis). I can’t remember a time when he didn’t wear something by Lacoste, Polo, or Tommy, and even though he may dress far younger than his age, he can still pull it off.

Now he’s a man moving closer to his 60s, driving a Mercedes and a BMW, with what seems to have a coterie of women whose common interest is him. He watches popular movies, practices singing, and dances on a regular basis. Even my grandma once told me that people like him because he’s the fun one to be around.

This is all very different from me; a shy, introverted, awkward person whose idea of a good time generally involves being in front of a computer.

Still, with all these differences, I know I’m his son. Just a chip off the old block, with the same work ethics, the same perfectionist tendencies, the same neurotic tendencies.

We get grumpy when we’re hungry. We hate feeling sweaty and sometimes have to shower twice in a day. We make the same silly jokes when we’re around new people. We decorated our houses exclusively with modern, minimalist furniture before we knew what each other’s houses looked like. And as I grow older, I’ve also started developing the same night owl habits, carefree attitude, insomnia, and digestion problems.

I turn 30 in four months, and I’m becoming my father’s son.

The Turning 30 Series

Everlong

Jeff — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 13:43:46 +0000

I rarely think of the one who loved me most, even though she still thinks of me. This isn’t on purpose; it’s a simple case of me meaning more to her than vice versa.

I’ve avoided such an unrequited obsession with my last love. I stopped all contact, cut myself off from anything that’d prevent me from healing or moving on, and I’m proud of myself for having the strength to break such self-destructive habits.

But I can’t hide from my own memories. When touched and inspired so significantly, one can’t help but remain forever changed.

Between the choice of giving things a chance and losing me forever, she chose the latter. So I wonder if she ever thinks of me now, the one who will always have loved her most, or whether I’ve just become another one of the wounded boys who staggered and fell so helplessly against her graces.

29 7/12: The Taoist

Jeff — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 02:47:51 +0000

I got these tattoos to remind myself to stay on the path. A reminder like this is something of a paradox; to be on the path is to be unaware of the path.

Even though I strongly believed in the tenets of Taoism, I still found myself off the path more often than on it. There was a point where I began to question whether I was truly a Taoist or just a Tao-enthusiast, because my understanding of the ideas didn’t necessarily mean an ability to apply them to my life.

But over time, I forgot about my tattoos. Or, should I say, I stopped thinking about them, the way one may be so accustomed to the nose on one’s face as to never dwell on the idea of it’s existence.

In the same way, I’ve forgotten about the path too, even though I know I’m on it. I don’t seek council from the Tao Te Ching nowadays, because there’s nothing left that I don’t understand. I found the feeling of serenity I’d been seeking for so long.

I turn 30 in five months, and I finally believe I’m a Taoist.

The Turning 30 Series

Protected: Big Fish

Jeff — Fri, 11 Jun 2010 12:30:17 +0000

romantically vulnerable

Jeff — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 16:44:29 +0000

I’m left feeling very vulnerable and wondering if I can be truly attracted to someone for who they are, instead of the idea of a relationship and the associated comfort of familiarity and physical connection. I miss affectionate text message conversations, spontaneous plans to cuddle, and having someone to spoil, but I need more time to sort out my feelings, and to get over the last one.

This is the exact reason I had to take a break from her. I haven’t had any contact in a while, and even though I seldom think of her these days, I’d be lying if I said I’ve forgotten completely.

There are mornings I wake up with the memory of her next to me in bed, passing hours with only delicate grazes between us. It’s as if my subconscious is still lingering on what we had, even though my conscious has given up on what could have been. Wanting to live my life with her became such a habit that I still catch myself wishing she could be there to share in my contentment when I’m sitting outside with the breeze against my skin on sunny Spring days.

She never understood why such a break would take so long¹, or why I couldn’t give her a solid time-frame, but now I know it was the right decision. Even though the pain and jealousy have left me, I have to let go of the good memories just as much.

Not that I can’t be in a relationship with someone right now. Rather, I shouldn’t, cause it’d be unfair to the other person; I still catch myself making comparisons to her, believing that no one will be as dynamic, inspiring, or good for me. Or wishing I could somehow relive those memories through someone else, even though I know that new, wonderful, unique experiences are created with every relationship and every partner.

I know where I need to be before I’m ready to be with someone again. I’ve been completely taken with people in the past, and eventually I truly get over them. It may take years, but one day I wake up and the memories don’t affect me anymore, though they remain as beautiful as they are important.

And this break was with the expectation that we’d eventually be in contact again, which would assuredly take even longer!

Arrows with no target

Jeff — Thu, 27 May 2010 04:22:02 +0000

I don’t view my projects the same way anymore. I used to work towards a goal, an idea of what I wanted to achieve. But more recently I stopped caring about the end result, probably due to this new perspective on…everything.

It’s a strange juxtaposition of knowing that what you’re doing is ultimately insignificant, and finding enjoyment in doing it anyway. Like a child stacking a pile of blocks, only to knock them down.

The wikipedia article on wu wei explains feeling this better than I can:

The goal for wu wei is to get out of your own way, so to speak. This is like when you are playing an instrument and if you start thinking about playing the instrument, then you will get in your own way and interfere with your own playing. It is aimless action, because if there was a goal that you need to aim at and hit, then you will develop anxiety about this goal.

Zhuangzi made a point of this, where he writes about an archer who at first didn’t have anything to aim at. When there was nothing to aim at, the archer was happy and content with his being. He was practicing wu wei. But, then he set up a target and “got in his own way.” He was going against the Tao and the natural course of things by having to hit that goal.

(This also reminds me of a verse from Leonard Cohen’s True Love Leaves No Traces: “Through windows in the dark/The children come, the children go/Like arrows with no targets/Like shackles made of snow.)

Nowadays, I do what I feel like doing and don’t stress out about not finishing a project, cause I know I’ll feel like working on it another day. It leaves me more loose ends, but I don’t mind. Luckily, I love creating things. Trying different mediums. New ways of expressing myself.