a day in the life of piano monkey

perspective 1: 0830: catch walk to school w PO in semi-sleep fuzz. locks the door. 0905: slugs down to practice dungeon with a hot cup of tea. 11-13: be amused when unexpected things happen with fixed score. 1420: WHERE ARE MY KEYS 1435: completes run of the day's trajectory around school. 1445: begs office peeps to produce miracle: my keys? 1446: downcasted eyes, asks librarian: (asshole) keys. 1515: grunts in frustration. 1630: explodes on housemate. takes hiskeys. leaves. 1745: in anger, decides to head over to gym. 1900: gets home. in defeat, picks up a takeout dinner. 1905: laments over lost keys over skype. keeps minnow up. 2400: WTH ARE MY DAMNED KEYS perspective 2: 0830: locks door, gets snug in pocket. 0905: opens dungeon door. rare stay out of pocket. wheee. 1100: MONKEY? 1420: MONKEY? 2400: MONKEY... luckily, keys and its careless owner was reconnect in total random incident. despite of desperate running around the school, the keys were not found

die kinderspiele, pieter bruegel, 1560 it is once again well after midnight- 215am, eastern standard time. the night takes the bustle of the desires and schedules away from the city, leaving it somehow pristine and neutral.  of course, there are occasional sirens and car breaks, also a bit of random yells from drunken ryerson kids.  but with the rain that soaks through the thickest sweater, as it permeated throughout the entire day and night, the accents of city night has been dimmed. there are condensations on my window, i can hear occasional wind trying to blow through the smallest cracks of the glass- it is impressive how much dust i sweep on daily basis- the dust that rose from the ground and travelled all the way up to 32nd floor.  this building started in 1971 and was completed in 1973 (same age as my bicycle), all 105m of it.  considering there are only two more floors above this tree house, to say that i live about 100m above the ground could be a nice round-up. from here

http://youtu.be/FPQNTDRgv64 the weather has turned just last weekend. today, i brought my cycling gloves out- as thin as they are, they will keep the wee fingers from the little nipping teeth of the wind, like hound puppies- not deadly nor permanent, enough to leave a dent on bare skin, as i ride in the morning and late evening. the leaves has fallen and unfortunately, because of the loads of rain we had, there wont be a spectacular colours this year. or is it that i have missed the apex of the year- where life turns another corner, sinking slowly yet surely, each step closer to the heart of the matter- of the earth, of oneself, of individual hearts and honestly naked emotions.  already in yyz, the daylight is shorter than twelve hours.  the steps towards home are heavier and a bit more hurried as the days rush by, shorter and shorter. i turned on some yuletide music for the first time for the upcoming winter.  i am not so fond of the christmas festivities itself, ho

*chauvet cave prehistoric paintings it's been quite an unremarkable week, coming from wk full of rehearsals, masterclasses, coaching and recording project. i even went off caffeine and slept proper, which magically eliminated most of the muscle tensions on my shoulders, yipee. though that confirms that there are no short cuts to living humanely- especially for oneself. with a bit of extra time, ive been working on some music i have put on the side (project with minnow and some other things i just happen to really like), taking care of little things like balancing the book ( ! ), running surprise lunch deliveries, checking up on kiddies to see if all are alright, putting up posters for gigs, etc.  and then came a surprise unpleasantness.  you see, as a freelancer, we put up posters for gigs at the conservatories and universities, so that interested people may take our info.  often, however, it gets incredibly low and some days you realize that someone has taken down your pos

i see that my last post was on 2 oct 2011. it is now officially 8 oct 2011 all day long and we, up in the north are already getting ready for the peak of the autumn (thanksgiving! who wants to adopt me for a thanksgiving dinner?).  i was completely baffled that when i was got out of the subway last evening at 1900, the sky was already dark. not dusk, dark. oh dear, where did the time go! however, it has been rather exciting week, evolving around bassoons, bassoon music and bassoonists. now you may wonder: HUH? the average population may have heard the bassoon as the 'granpa' from peter and the wolf, prokofiev.  it's a long big wooden thing with way too many keys (really, it does my head in), involves double reeds which are handmade through sugar cane panels soaked-cut-planed-trimmed-angled-boiled-frustrated-baffled-disappointed-hoped-god-knows-how-processes in a small corner of a room equipped with water boiler, lots of plastic containers, threads, tears, blood, sharp

the days are running away, faster than the fading sunlight of the mid autumnal afternoon.  nights are melting into a silvery oblivion, elusive, vast yet so quick to pass by. it was only a week ago, things were hot, humid and hazy- baking under the last heat of the indian summer.  tonight, the city is full of people, walking the streets in the name of arts, nuit blanche, under the clear sky with a children's-book-perfect paper moon.  the sudden cold that appeared on the road just yesterday and fastened buttons, hands in pockets, hats and caps, happy to appear again to the outside, from the long summer sleep in the corner of the closet. the morning bike ride that results in stiff arms, chilled through that usual short ride to the campus.  sudden thirst for a mug of hot tea, steaming vapours, of the stories of high summer sun, captured through little tea leaves.  huddled shoulders and shirt collars turned up, to stroke little goosebumps that autumnal night wind created on back of st