Monthly Archives: May 2004

Bel Canto

I’ve been trying to figure out how Bel Canto has created such ice cold music, then I realized that a lot of the mood comes not only from the chords, but the instruments themselves. Most of them have no reverberation, and the ones that do begin with a staccato prick. On top of that, there’s no steady beat, just awkward, military style plucks. Add in some airy vocals with what I assume is a soprano sax (it’s a little too brassy to be a clarinet, but sounds like a reed instrument nonetheless), and almost any type of music would sound cold.

A Cat's Internal Schedule

In the mornings, Dolly will wake up from my alarm. When it rings, whether she’s on my legs, on her pillow, on my neck, or against the wall, she’ll walk to the foot of the bed and stare at the door. At night, she’s usually in my room by the time I go to bed. I think she’s finally been able to adapt to my schedule because it’s the first time I’ve been able to consistently go to bed and wake up for more two months.


Thumbnail: Journey

Bus rides are always either really good or really bad.

They’re really good when I find a window seat. That’s when I can tune out completely, lose myself in my music, and become totally oblivious to anything going on around me. I get to watch everything pass by and drift in and out of my thoughts. It’s when I get the most thinking done during the day (even more than in the shower).

They’re really bad when I can’t find a seat and I’m left standing up. I keep my music low so that I can hear any announcements by the bus driver, or people trying to get by. I’m always on guard about where I should be moving or when a seat might become available. And music on a low volume isn’t really worth listening to.

One of the reasons why I haven’t bought a car is because I’d lose all my thinking time. Every day I can reflect for an hour going to work and an hour coming back when I’m on the bus. If I was in a car, I’d be too busy paying attention to the road, to bad drivers, to traffic lights, to pedestrians. I wouldn’t be able to think, and I’d probably write a lot less.

Some days, when I’m coming close to my stop, I wish that the bus would just keep going, just keep driving, and never stop. I’d ride it from morning to night, listening to my music, just enjoying the feeling of going somewhere and nowhere at the same time.

Thinking about nothing and everything.