Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Radiohead 2

First of all, allow me to say that I am really not pleased with myself. In the way that I always seem to need people to really dig into me to actually get me to talk about something that's bugging me. And then when people don't have the time or effort to put into me, I start to feel super disappointed, and also mad at myself, because I know it's mostly my fault. Things would be so much easier if I could just start talking as soon as somebody says 'what's wrong?'. But instead, I always shrug, and they give me a look, but don't say anything else. And I'm left pleading inside my head for them to ask me one more time, and whatever is bugging me is left alone, still bugging.

Anyway. Now that that's out, I shall move on.

I went to a Radiohead movement piece with Graham today. Basically it's a theater piece that is mostly just movement, set to music from a Radiohead album.

I really went into it having no idea what to expect. Graham said it was really good, and not only do I trust his judgment, but there are also very few theater pieces I do not enjoy.

This definitely blew me away.

I'm not even sure how I'm going to say what I thought about it. And I'm not sure how much I'm going to even mention the piece itself, because I really don't know how to. It's a movement piece. How do you write about movement? It's like dancing about architecture.

However, I'm not going to rule out the possibility of me mentioning it, so just to cover myself, there is a potential spoiler alert coming up.

Not that there was much plot in this. It was very, very much up to personal interpretation, and what you took out of it. I'm going to say right now that my thoughts on it aren't really in an organized state right now, and I'm not sure if they ever will be. So what follows are my thoughts right now, as of about an hour and a half after the show. Keep up if you can.

I got a huge sense of society. Today's society, and how it doesn't make sense. How it often feels like everybody else is doing their own thing, and yet they all seem to be in on something that you don't know.

Common sense vs. the ridiculousness of the things people do. How sometimes there are people who stand up to what goes on. People trying to pull others out of the cycle of society, that spins away, and drags them down into nonsense. And then giving up, and just joining that majority. Because there's no use anyways, and because it's easier than trying to pull out of it.

Personal thoughts and feelings. Everybody is thinking something, and hoping for something, and at the same time, trying not to hope, because how could it ever possibly happen? Letting go, and allowing it to happen, and what is acceptable now, when 100, even 50 years ago, it wouldn't be tolerated.

Solitude, and feeling alone. At one point, he was in center stage, with people in chairs all around him. And he kept asking where everybody was, and even when one person answered, and said they're all in front of him, he couldn't see them. Don't you ever have that on the train? On the streets? You look around, and people have this's almost more than just neutral. It's empty. And even though you are surrounded by people you want to ask where everybody is. I ask where everybody is. Why they feel like they have to go away when they step onto the street.

Videos. Videos of people who are gone. People who are on their deathbed, and don't want to face the world. When they're gone, all you have are pictures, and videos. And in the videos, there is no sound. But you can see them. They're talking, smiling, laughing. You know they're gone, and this is all you have left. On one hand, you know this is only a shadow, only one part of this person who used to live, breathe, and feel. On the other hand, it's all you have left, and you never want to let go.

At first, I wanted to know what they were talking about. What story they were telling, what day they were reliving for the camera. I wanted to know what they were telling us. And I finally realized I didn't want to know. I just wanted to look at their faces, and see the emotion. See all the happiness and life there, and just know that each of them was a real person.

At the end, they all went silent. And one by one, they said the most sincere thank you that could be said without any noise. I wondered what they were thanking us for. For being there? For that perfect day? For everything?

Then it was over. And I'm left wanting time to stand still, so I can take a few moments to relive those moments of pure emotion. Wanting to go back, and watch that girl's fact on the screen, the one who was so full of life, and joy, and everything.

But time doesn't stand still. And soon enough I'll be pushed back out into it. I'll leave that dark theater, where the only thing real is what's happening in front of you.

But while I've learned that time doesn't stand still, I've also learned that people don't stay the same. I've learned that understanding the world is a constant process of comparing what we don't comprehend to our own experiences, and reassessing what we think we understand.

I may not come out of this a completely different person, and I may not begin changing everything I understand and believe because of this night. But I will take something away from it. I have taken something away from it.

And I know I won't have this constantly on my mind. But I will keep it away. Wrap it up in a box in my mind, and label it with a sharpie, or a post it note. To remind myself, when I'm feeling particularly hopeless, emotionless, like a walking, empty shell, to pull this out. Though it may not make me feel better, it will remind me there are still reasons to feel. That there are still people trying to make sense of this world.

And as long as there are still beautiful works of art worth thinking about, I think I'll make it through.



Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Silly Internetz

I've been getting a lot of spam comments recently. It's slightly annoying. However, Blogger also just made a feature that auto-detects potential spam comments, and doesn't let them be published unless you confirm they're not spam. Which is kinda nice.

So, I'm currently at the end of the first two days of school. And I feel dangerously close to being a first year again.

Well, I definitely did during my first class on Monday, but that was because the class was in a room in Earth Sciences, and whenever I delve into the realm of the science buildings I always feel small and scared. Because, c'mon, there are all people...

Anyways, I think it's also partly because I'm a third year now. And when I look back to when I was a first year, I remember what I thought of the third years. I admired most of them, and thought they were always cool and composed and knew exactly how things at the university go down.

To be fair, I could be underestimating myself a little bit. I do know a fair bit about how things at the university work, and I'm not exactly terrified of course outlines or homework anymore. But even so, I definitely do not feel like I'm the person I used to look up to a few years ago.

But I suppose that's almost always the way of things, when you work your way up in the world. I thought the Supes at MusiCamp were the coolest people ever. They were always so calm, and organized, and super fun. Now, having been a Supe, I still think they're a coolest people every, and super fun, but at the same time, most of camp all the Supes are practically sleepwalking their way through the day (I exaggerate slightly...but we don't get nearly as much sleep as is probably good for us), and we were definitely not as organized as I thought the Supes always were. We really fake it, and make stuff up half the time.

In general, I feel like I've forgotten how to be a university student. But I think part of that might be because I did more this summer than I usually do. Generally I just sit around the house with my brother all summer. This summer I actually went to MusiCamp for a month. And people who go to MusiCamp know that it's practically like entering another world. When I came back, I'd almost forgotten how you interact in a place that's not camp. With people who haven't been to camp.

I also moved out. Which took up some time, and a lot of thought. So a lot of the summer, especially after I got back from camp, was adjusting to the new place, getting used to cleaning and cooking (and reminding myself to actually eat regular meals), and just generally getting comfortable in my new space. Suddenly university is thrown on top of that, and I'm left thinking 'But...what about spending time in my space?'

But I know it'll get better. It's just weird having the summer off, and going and doing different stuff, and suddenly I'm back, and it feels like it's been forever since I've been there.

However, one of the things I always admired about the third years that I do actually have: a pretty kick ass schedule. Every day I start at either 10:30 or 11, and every day I end at either 3 or 3:30. I'm totally okay with that. I get to sleep in, and I can still keep my evenings open for work. I still haven't scheduled my lessons, but we're pretty sure they're going to be on Monday evenings, and I'm trying to go for Monday afternoons if we can do that.

I also had this really weird thought while I was wandering through the sciences building: that Ken will be at Sait all this year, so he won't be hanging out at the university, so he won't be here to see me. And for some reason that thought scared the hell out of me for a few minutes, before I told myself to pull myself together and suck it up.

I also think I'm exaggerating this whole being scared of school thing just slightly. It's not that I'm actually afraid, it's just that it's a big schedule change, from hanging out at home and just getting things done as they needed to be done, to having classes and just having a lot more stuff to do in general. I don't tend to deal with drastic schedule changes very well, so I suppose I shouldn't be entirely surprised by this reaction.

I haven't been to the bar yet, which is more than I can say of some of my friends. But I think I have used up my weekly allowed amount of swearing in the first two days, and I'm currently heading into overload.

I was also playing Ken's Civilization game on his computer, and even though I was at least 2000 points ahead of everybody, another country won just because they got into space before I did. I am not pleased, and even though I know I should start another game, cause I have a different strategy idea for my next round, I feel like ignoring both the game, and Ken's computer for a while. Just to give them time to think about what they did.

I'm kind of glad I don't tend to re-read these posts, cause I'm pretty sure I would not be pleased with the quality of my writing. I also say 'I' a lot here. But that's allowed, cause it's my blog, right? Right...

But really, hopefully I'll actually have some interesting stories to tell here, and not just random facts about what I'm doing with my days.


"That's completely different. It's like comparing apples to geese."

Wednesday, September 08, 2010

Pizza Thoughts

So, I was sitting at the stove, stirring the tomato sauce for the pizza Ken's making.

We seem to have a pretty good deal going on that Ken makes food, and I do dishes. I'm okay with it and he seems pretty okay with it. It's a pretty good system. Especially since he doesn't like doing dishes, and I...well, I like making food, I'm usually too lazy to do it. I'd rather complain about being hungry until somebody does something about it. But I digress.

So I'm stirring the sauce, and suddenly I have this image pop into my head of me and Ken owning a nice piece of land, like a farm, and me explaining to this kid (I presumed it was some sort of niece) that at our house, the men always go outside to do the work, and the women stay inside to cook for the men.

Then it changed to the kid being my kid, and a few more kids appeared, all mine, and I was explaining to my parents (who were visiting) that the kids are always either working on the farm or cooking for the ones working, regardless of male or female, and they have to earn their free time. Unless they have homework, then they're exempt from working and cooking, as long as they're working on their homework.

At this point one of the younger children started to cry, and I asked one of the older children to take care of her while I finished dinner. My children were apparently very well behaved.

It was at this point in this little...I don't even know what to call this...that I realized I had been imagining me speaking with a southern accent the entire time. This weirded me out so much that I went back and tried to fix it, but it refused to be fixed, and so I abandoned this little spurt of imagination that seemed to come out of nowhere.

I just poked a happy face into the pizza dough with my finger.

Anyways, I thought you would enjoy this little story, because I find it rather amusing. And also a little weird how I had a very dream-like thought pop up while I was still very awake.

Recent activities have also included venturing to the university, standing in lines, welcoming Jocelyn home, Ken and I betting on if Jocelyn's home (she spends a lot of time in her room...we're not judging her, but we also sometimes jokingly wonder if she likes us...), and me being mopey about the fact that we don't have any scissors in the house, and how we don't have a snake.

I really wanted a snake, because they're awesome, and Mom would never let a reptile in her house. But I also really wanted to get it before school starts, because I was positive that once school starts, we won't really have much time to put into getting things ready for a snake. I'm not really worried about not having time to look after the snake once school starts. In my experience of doing things, getting started is often the hardest part for me.

And I also felt really stupid when Ken proclaimed to me that I had bought tomato paste instead of tomato sauce for the pizza.

However, in other news, I was just reminded of my liking for the word 'proclaim'. Along with 'procure' which I can now only imagine in the context of Santa Claus 'procuring' the deed to somebody's land.

But that's another story. Ask Graham.


"...and that's why Graham's not allowed to touch the lamps."