21:11 - September 10, 2002
and then my head turned upside down
It is a melancholy night out tonight, with just the right amount of cold to chill your bones and the outer layer of your skin, but not quite as deep as your heart. When I'm observing, I constantly picture what photos taken from my view at that exact moment would look like, and adjust my field of vision accordingly. One such potential photo was the edge of my shirt and one sleeve with a limp right hand peeking out, over a denim-covered left leg crouched by a Discman blurry with raindrops, enough to distort the metal but not quite enough to spill over the sides, with the edge of the Rocky mountains over the Music Building in the right corner.

Another was the reaching shape of the streetlights from the cross of the bus windows, lighting up the blond dreadlocks of Stuart, standing in front of me, and falling across him in such a way that his body became two-dimensional except for his hair.

I think sometimes people think I'm weird for playing not only air-guitar, but air-piano, air-saxophone, and air-drums, among others, along with whatever CD I happen to be listening to at the time. Instead of dancing at the Incubus concert, I sang and played my imaginary piano.

Sometimes I think I could make some kind of perverse career out of this.

I've met my match, attitude-wise, in my Aural Skills teacher: 'What kind of music do you write?'
'I don't know, lots of kinds..'
'Pick one you do best.'
'Classical, I guess, because...'
'You mean you write music in the style of the 17th century?'
'No, I mean...'
'Because when the man on the street says 'classical' he means 'not rock, jazz, folk, etc., but when we say it in this building..'
'What I meant was..'
'When we say it in this building it means 'in the style of the 17th century. Now. What kind of music do you write?'
'Then what are you supposed to call it? Modern classical?'
'I had a student once who only wrote Schubert. Schubert, Schubert, Schubert.'
'....'
'So if you're going to say modern classical people are going to think Debussy, Stravinsky..'
'Can I choose not to identify it, then?'
'You can, but don't expect the music department to hear your case if you're going to be that indecisive about it.'

My head was not on exactly right side up when I left that office.

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