The Belmont Bloggetin
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Sunday, October 26, 2003
It's incredible how a day can change from shitty to glorious, just as you turn the page on a book.
Little pieces of unexpected news, they can warm your heart more than the occasional sunray sneaking through these stern November clouds, arrived just a few days early (they must have missed my company, I deem).
And so, all the gray and the cold and the damp and the nostalgia and the freaking heartbreak, it just melts into an orgy of colors, and warmth, and coziness, and you feel like you're home, and you're happy again.
Anche se non ci possiamo abbracciare, e piangere dalla gioia, come fratelli.
Cazzo, sono contento. Mi manchi come l'aria, vorrei davvero essere li', a dividere questo momento come abbiamo diviso la pioggia battente quella lontana sera d'Agosto - ma la sai una cosa? forse, un pochino, ci sono.
Ascolta attentamente, e sentirai quelle note familiari nella memoria del tuo cuore. Oggi, piu' che mai, sono le tue.
Anche se non ti posso abbracciare.
Sunday, October 19, 2003
Autumn Leaves
Freely interpreted and changed by myself
The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
bullpoop. This is no Maine.
Leaves in Tennessee just die
I see your faces, the summer days
The sunburned hands we used to hold
Three young men, one beautiful girl
jumping from the cliffs
in the sea of our fathers
Since I went away the days grew long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
...dreaming of a White Christmas...
I already hear winter songs!
But I miss you most of all, unique friends
When autumn leaves start to fall
Wait. Maybe it is Maine.
There's a lovely maple tree losing its red leaves
out of my window.
And I know leaves are falling back home
too.
Da dee dee dum
Da dee dee dum dee
Da dee dee dum
Da dee dee da.
Fall Break, come and gone...
...and a handful of ashes are all that remains.
Not really!
This has been a most peculiar break. I spent the first two days in complete relaxation, true to my intent of re-charging the batteries for the second half of the semester. What I failed to do was getting an headstart on a couple of massive assignments...but we all know how I love to work under pressure (do we, really?)
Then, on Saturday, the fireworks went off. I had an internet friend and his wife come and meet me from Huntsville, AL. The guy works at the NASA space center and is a wonderful guitar player in his free time (I love how he seems to write evry single song lyric of his @ meetings!). I did my best at the stove for my guests and pulled off a very nice specimen of fine Italian cuisine. After dinner, we just sat down and traded songs for a couple of hours - and it was the most enjoyable of times.
With the early Sunday devoted to following my soccer team's match, having lunch with my guests and biding them goodbye, the day has gone along smoothly and without much work getting done. I still think I should have spent some more time working, but, what the heck, you don't have a break every week...
Monday, October 13, 2003
Ehy ehy ehy - power to the dashes
Fall break is so close, I can almost feel its alluring grazing - like a maiden's fingertips, or a leafless brach touching my skin..
I need these few free days for my self - I need to disconnect just for a short while, get some serious sleep, re-organize myself and my plans.
I need to think about MY project - the next installment in my discography, the main reason why I crossed the pond in the first place.
You're not a true musician if you're not making music - you're just a sterile, scrawny being wasting its time on its instrument of choice.
I have so many songs that need polishing - they all seem to reach, say, a 98% level of completion, and just linger there in a state of limbonic suspension.
I have to calm my nerves down in the recording room - those few hours of takes are going to be writ on an aluminum disc forever.
***
Take your time, J. Take your time. This has to be great - and you know it. You're going to invest and incredible amount of resources in this, and you don't want the final results to be anyhting but the possible best. You desreve that. She deserves that.
Do as to make her the proudest of Moms, were she here to witness the tentative first steps of his son's carreer.
Sunday, October 05, 2003
A few composer's thoughts
I have to admit that, to me, creativity comes in circles. I haven't written anything in the whole summer. Now I feel an idea or two slowly surfacing to the consciousness of my musical brain - not much, but still something.
I do wonder why it is so - why sometimes stuff would literally roll off my fingers as I play, when other times I would struggle for months to get something new and fresh going.
They say it all relates to what you listen to, and in these few months away from home I'm only listening to old, soothing songs I am attached to - could this be a cause?
Mayhap.
They say you need new stimuli, new feathers to tickle your creativity with. Is this true? Well, I must say it is, as I've had a sprout of creative frenzy when I first got together with Chris (the guitar playing guy I told you about a few entries ago). But even then, it was more improvisational matter than compositional: I simply laid down some melodies over a couple of ideas of Chris's.
And it's not like I wouldn't have anything to write about. Heck, I'm 4000 miles from my nice home (The Hillside Apt. Blues?), I haven't seen my family and friends for six weeks now, I am constantly exposed to all kinds of gorgeous Southern Baptist girls, smiling brightly to the Italian guy...so, then, what's wrong with my Muse?
The answer is, I really have no clue.
It’s comforting to feel that idea or two emerging from the murkiness of my subconscious – it’s almost like seeing the infamous light at the end of the tunnel. I won’t start running for dear life towards it, though. I have been waiting for so long now, I don’t want to force thing to happen. No way sir. I will wait for this apple to be ripe, and gently fall off the branch. Hoping it’s gonna be a good one.
Wednesday, October 01, 2003
I was lying in my bed, peacefully asleep. A long, taxing day had gone by, and I was enjoying what felt like hard-earned rest. Then, in a sudden, it was over.
It took me a good full minute to realize what was happening and arise from the depths of my sleep, and as I did so a heavy feeling of guilt made my heart sink. A siren - shrill, so high-pitched, ear-piercingly annoying, was screaming for attention. A light was flashing outside of my room's door.
"What in the hell have I done this time," my still half-asleep brain vomited, "I don't smoke!" The inconsistency of the thought didn't seem to trouble it. The scenery looked as if taken straight from a very confused nightmare. I could hear the faint chorusing effect made by all the other sirens crying in the other buildings of the Hillside. Others lights were flashing, and amongst them were the unmistakable red and blue glow of the Campus Security. I stumbled out of my room, expecting to find the living room ablaze, and wondering if the feeling of my own skin melting would have been the last thing I'd have experienced.
The living room was indeed ablaze, but only with the flashes of the emergency light. I wandered to my roommate's door, found it closed, figured that if he was in there he'd be more than awaken by that terrible racket, then went back to the living room and out in the night.
A few sleepy people were standing on the road, arms embraced around their own bodies to fight the chilly air, a less than happy look on their face.
What followed was a carousel of the absurd, or so it seemed to my bed-longing mind.
A few Security officers strolled up the buildings stairs, not really hurrying anywhere. A truck full of firefighters from the nearby (heck, it's right on12th!) Fire Brigade station showed up, emergency lights whirling like the eyes of an epileptic dragon.
They checked if ANYTHING was really happening (a procedure that took the longest 30 seconds of my life), then bid us all goodnight. The sirens had mercifully gone silent a few minutes before.
One last glance to my fellow companions of this improvised late-night party, and the last thing I remember is the warm embrace of the bed welcoming me back.
