A long day of wandering between Kendall/MIT - Central Square today, thinking about the world, humans and commercialism. Haven't been bumped this off-kilter in years and I welcome the familiar feelings, albeit leading me to a dark and uncertain path, haha.
I did happen upon this lovely little book-exchange box on Broadway, and picked up Gary Soto's, "Why I Don't Write Children's Literature". It became my light and companion for the day, allowing my wounded psyche a much needed breather.
Today's Playlist:
David Byrne - Lead Us Not Into Temptation *from one of my all-time favorite films*
Fiona Apple - When the Pawn *ohhh isn't her smoky voice just delicious? "Criminal" and "Paper Bag" goes hand in hand. D:*
Sean Lennon - Friendly Fire
Charles Mingus - The Clown, Ah Um
John Coltrane & Duke Ellington
Astor Piazolla - Libertango
Tchaikovsky - The Seasons, June, Barcarolle *on repeat so I can learn*
Glenn Gould - Inventions & Sinfonias, Goldberg Variations
Jeeves & Wooster soundtrack
Vince Guaraldi - Peanuts Portraits
Thelonious Monk - Monk's Dream
Esperanza Spalding - Chamber Music Society
Andrew Bird - Fingerlings 4, The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Music of Hair *He's playing in Boston this weekend, the one Saturday I have to work! I rarely go out to concerts but...sigh..cry for a moment and move on.*
Much jazz, transporting me back to early childhood in Sacramento, when one day my parents discovered the jazz radio station and didn't touch the dial for the next 10 years. At age 7, purely a fan of classical music, jazz puzzled and piqued my interest as it was so...how say? Freeing, like...poetry. Poetry, as mentioned in a previous post, absolutely terrifies me. Jazz, or any non-classical music without it's rigid rules and structure, I couldn't (and to this day struggle to) grasp the concept of improvisation, and that untouchable quality fascinated and delighted me to no end. My background is classical ballet, Japanese folk dancing, and classical piano. You can't just up and do your own thing. I liked discipline, restraint, order. It was stable in its predictability.
Though the station was primarily smooth jazz with Brian Culbertson, Kenny G. and Diana Krall (She the only one I was truly interested in, sorry guys..), I being the nerdy kid looked further back into the history of jazz at the library and became enamored with Miles Davis, Nat King Cole, Jelly Roll Morton, Duke Ellington and John Coltrane (1). I borrowed whatever tape or cd I could. I pretended to be Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald on the bed/stage. From there my curiosity branched out to Bossa Nova - Joao Gilberto and Astor Piazolla were early faves, and then on to the rest of the world's music. Every music has its story to tell, and I do love stories. Somehow it led to appreciation of Mongolian throat singing, Gregorian Chants, Bulgarian's folk songs, noise/experimental, the avante garde. All this was great until I was introduced to Ricky Martin in 6th grade the spring of 2000. From there began my downward spiral into mindless pop music as I struggled to find an appropriate label for myself and fit in as a teen.
Anyways, before it gets too depressing, point of the above is that today, it was just really nice to reconnect to my history of music appreciation. I thank my parents, their driving me to the library every dang day, their indulging me with the CDs from Costco and the Dollar store on birthdays bought with what little money they had. Thank you to all the public libraries, the safe-haven for quiet kids like me. And I thank the shamelessly curious pre-teen-years-kid-self. As I grow older, I become less ashamed of going through such seemingly random phases (2).
Vince Guaraldi - Peanuts Portraits
Thelonious Monk - Monk's Dream
Esperanza Spalding - Chamber Music Society
Andrew Bird - Fingerlings 4, The Mysterious Production of Eggs, Music of Hair *He's playing in Boston this weekend, the one Saturday I have to work! I rarely go out to concerts but...sigh..cry for a moment and move on.*
Much jazz, transporting me back to early childhood in Sacramento, when one day my parents discovered the jazz radio station and didn't touch the dial for the next 10 years. At age 7, purely a fan of classical music, jazz puzzled and piqued my interest as it was so...how say? Freeing, like...poetry. Poetry, as mentioned in a previous post, absolutely terrifies me. Jazz, or any non-classical music without it's rigid rules and structure, I couldn't (and to this day struggle to) grasp the concept of improvisation, and that untouchable quality fascinated and delighted me to no end. My background is classical ballet, Japanese folk dancing, and classical piano. You can't just up and do your own thing. I liked discipline, restraint, order. It was stable in its predictability.
Though the station was primarily smooth jazz with Brian Culbertson, Kenny G. and Diana Krall (She the only one I was truly interested in, sorry guys..), I being the nerdy kid looked further back into the history of jazz at the library and became enamored with Miles Davis, Nat King Cole, Jelly Roll Morton, Duke Ellington and John Coltrane (1). I borrowed whatever tape or cd I could. I pretended to be Billie Holiday or Ella Fitzgerald on the bed/stage. From there my curiosity branched out to Bossa Nova - Joao Gilberto and Astor Piazolla were early faves, and then on to the rest of the world's music. Every music has its story to tell, and I do love stories. Somehow it led to appreciation of Mongolian throat singing, Gregorian Chants, Bulgarian's folk songs, noise/experimental, the avante garde. All this was great until I was introduced to Ricky Martin in 6th grade the spring of 2000. From there began my downward spiral into mindless pop music as I struggled to find an appropriate label for myself and fit in as a teen.
Anyways, before it gets too depressing, point of the above is that today, it was just really nice to reconnect to my history of music appreciation. I thank my parents, their driving me to the library every dang day, their indulging me with the CDs from Costco and the Dollar store on birthdays bought with what little money they had. Thank you to all the public libraries, the safe-haven for quiet kids like me. And I thank the shamelessly curious pre-teen-years-kid-self. As I grow older, I become less ashamed of going through such seemingly random phases (2).
Notes:
(1): This isn't the first obsessive phase. When I was into horses, after I cleaned out the juvenile section of Marguerite Henry and Wesley Dennis, James Herriot and whatever facts DK Eyewitness could offer, I was hungry enough still to devour the adult section's "Equus in History of Art", "1001 Horse Breeds", and the "Equine Medical Reference". In addition, I learned to draw them well enough to win awards and recognition.. Then I accidentally ate and liked horse meat in Japan. I couldn't say I loved them the same ever since.
(2): Horse whispering, roaring twenties, German Expressionist films, The Spanish Inquisition and medieval torture devices, Carl Jung, Victorian seance, archery and weaponry, countertenors/castrati (Farinelli, Jaroussky, Moreschi), black&white films, Nobuyoshi Araki, Hiromix, Sam taylor-Wood, Gothic architecture, children's books, Interaction of Colors, chemistry are a few.
(2): Horse whispering, roaring twenties, German Expressionist films, The Spanish Inquisition and medieval torture devices, Carl Jung, Victorian seance, archery and weaponry, countertenors/castrati (Farinelli, Jaroussky, Moreschi), black&white films, Nobuyoshi Araki, Hiromix, Sam taylor-Wood, Gothic architecture, children's books, Interaction of Colors, chemistry are a few.
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