Blood and Water

In the last week or so I completed an out of the blue chamber work entitled Heath, written surreptitiously in honor of the recently deceased actor–and while the actual piece dealt little with the emotions of the appropriate Requiem his passing elicits, I believe it to be a fitting expression of the harmonic and compositional methods I have come up for myself. I was partially influenced by John Cage’s beautiful Quartets I-VIII, a little known and little performed piece from the late 1970s, entirely composed of snatches of harmony from early American hymns. At the same time I also employed some of the instrumentation of Morton Feldman’s music–spare, concise yet somewhat mysterious–as well as the native harmony of South Texas, and my very own pentatonic scale.

Today my little brother turned 21, and he celebrated his nativity with due éclat: he sat all day in the living room, and later on dined on his own chocolate cake. My mother bought him a PlayStation 2, with a couple of games, as a treat for convalescing from his recent surgery, as well as assisting us here. He cannot move–doing so for long periods of time causes him to faint–and therefore he spent the majority of today, as well as the weekend, playing his video games and enjoying himself, which I am actually surprised and gratified to see him do, since he worries much about us, quite needlessly.

I shall, within the span of a few weeks, be taking a trip, partly to relieve my exasperation–a year built up already of frustrating experiences–and also to inquire about the possibilities of school in a place other than home, in the fall. I have saved up some money and am aiming to get out of this town and the region the week of February 25. While I said I wanted to take advantage to visit other friends, I will not, for reasons well-known to them, but I will manage to say hello. I have too many people I talk to as it is–one of them I have tired of so much so that seeing him online I feel depressed every time he talks about his semi-professional boyfriend and their travels all over the country, seeing things, drinking and continuously cheating on one another. My one friend in Sweetwater, Texas, having recently moved there, pledged his support, and I am happy for it. This is the first time I have had such a person in my life, that would pay attention to me so presciently. I definitely need to start paring down on the people I talk to, since I have discovered the lot of them are just there for show, and not necessarily for anything else.

I am still conflicted about my willingness to see Ryan, though that is a routine sentiment, and nothing new to me. I am not too altogether concerned whether anything will develop between us at all anymore. Part of me is thankful, in a way, in knowing that I am not in love with him anymore. For that, I know, things are definitely headed in the right way.

How I long to see mountains in the early evening, with the broad yellow sunlight alighting and forming silohuettes of broad rocky curves in the clear sky. I want to see the road, have the sensation of movement, almost perpetual, the sweet air of the desert, and the starry sky. And most of all, I want to be able to be free from concerns for just one week, to conduct myself in relative silence and quietude for that one week, away from the criticisms of peers, rivals and family, and to experience the unique blessings of adulthood by myself.

Notations/Invective

Staying up this late causes one to think about certain circumstances that wouldn’t normally bother a person on a regular basis. I was reading about John Cage tonight, whom I love and consider myself very close to artistically and philosophically. Unfortunately there are people who, despite all of the wonderful things he helped to bring about, disregard his life and his work as trash, not being very meaningful at all. While I can’t change the opinion of the snide few who prefer the purist view of music appreciation and theory, it gives me pause to wonder why someone would hate just one person, on account of what that person makes. Still more troubling is the fact that John was such a wonderful person personally; it makes no sense to attack Cage personally, since he probably was the most humble, sincere, and amiable man among a group of individuals who strove most of their lives to separate themselves from the status quo. John did the opposite. He mingled with people in such a way, that it was easy to take his brilliance and magnanimity for granted. It serves very little purpose, therefore, to direct the anger at one’s own ignorance for not understanding something, at a person who does not deserve and did not deserve it in the first place.

My life isn’t filled with sorrow or pain, but it’s been punctuated with it. The days are good for awhile, and then worries and sadnesses creep in, followed by dark nights, when the world seems stuck and refuses to move. The thoughts are loud and continuous, one can’t get away from them. I seem to be headed that way now–I can see the darkness looming up ahead in my mind, and I am fighting to get away from it, but to no avail. I feel like my life is a nightmare that I can’t wake up from; a still, oppressive place where I’m doing the same repetitive tasks over and over, for absolutely nothing. I am terrified of the pain, but I know it’s back there, just waiting to rear its ugly head at me. All I want to do is wake up and go back to school, and finally rid myself of the bitterness that has plagued me this last year.

As for the bitterness itself it is manifestly both a good and a bad thing. One can obviously imagine the bad things that come from being embittered. But at the same time, I feel a great sense of reality, a clarity that permeates existence: in it, I can see what others cannot, laugh at what others would find serious, and take seriously what others would find trivial. At the same time, things are much more timeless now, as if they somehow came into existence almost accidentally, and that Eternity is right before me, beckoning to me. I know that it isn’t nihilism, either, as God is alive to me–but perhaps He is no longer alive in the beliefs I once had (organized religion).

There will be many many opportunities for me in the future. I will not rest, as I affirm by Almighty God, until I have done what I am called to do. I am sure to lose many friends and gain many more in the process. I have to remember what my responsibilities are, and to adhere to them fervently until I can gain what is promised for me.