a day in the life of piano monkey

at age 31, i may be finally realizing that i have got this all wrong.  yep. not just 90' but a full 180'.  with all that schooling and everything else, with all the elaborate delusions such as 'thoughts' and 'being a humanist,' i have arrived to the grand total of zero. nothing to show for. i earned couple degrees. too bad, because unless one shoves it to other people's faces, it's actually no use at all.  it's like my credit card.  my bank treats me very well, why? because i have the title before my last name.  yep. they call me dr. lee.  when i go to work, people often dont even remember my name. even if they do, i am someone who they can order around to move some chairs and stuff.  god forbid, she actually understand anything about this arts business? my education is apparently worthless, because after all that, im still worthless to most of the world. couple days ago, i was recording at a location.  the dude decided to be graceful and thank eve

"i am not starting at 730, i will start at 735. why? because i always start late." "look, we try to start things on schedule in this building. this is your 5 min call." "i am telling you, if you dont start at 735, i am going to walk out from the concert!" "i had to deal with tech glitches all afternoon because the gear you have rented does not work properly!" "well, let me clear up a point; the gear that you were using is a rental through the festival, not through the hall.  and we tried and have provided the auxiliary items you have requested last minute... why dont you give me a tangible reason that i can pass on to the house manager?" "(house manager), he wont go at 730." "why? is there a problem?" " he says he cant go on at 730 and if not, he's going to walk out." "gosh. alright then." apparently there were tech glitches all afternoon. nothing was working properly.  so the perf

the world have turned while we were weaving not once but twice and now onto a third, first of another three hundreds and sixty then five. of weaving and stretching the boundaries, of the places and the thoughts we have shared, once individual thoughts and now a co-habitat, not only we have been freely swimming two minnows but we also have grown like two tree roots, intertwined in rich, dark soil, perhaps deeper than tall. the years went by, flying, we forgot to count the days, heady aroma filling up heads and hearts sometimes high, sometimes low. but always full, rich and enveloping, simultaneous, free and generous. and all these thoughts are simple, isnt it, to three little words. i have said it freely to you and you have said it generously to me. i hope to give you more of such humble offerings, just like a well-brewed coffee, common yet most beautiful in the morning, especially when it's been drawn, just for you and no one else, despite the fact that there are

now i am back in yyz and life is back in the full (well, never that full really) swing.  back to multiple hats and different duties and peoples throughout the days and nights, often filled with music. but there are also some mundane or ordinary things i must do.  one of the very first thing i did when i got back was going to the bank, with my suitcases and all. it's kinda silly to think of flying seven and a half hours in a small tin can then another stint with the subway, then rush to the bank- seriously, monkey, you?! well, it's been a funny holiday in a sense it was free- well, almost.  you see, my initial departure was in mid-december. it seems alright, finish the semester in style, then leisurely leave to a european holiday, how classy. except in my life, things rarely happen as planned.  out of total amusement, i decided to take a look at last minute departures from yyz.  things werent really too hectic and so i was wondering aloud: hmm, how difficult is it to catch las

‘it’s too many rules- rules, rules, rules! none of them make any sense!’ she said, then she ran away to get more papers and pens to draw more rules. And when the house was filled out with papers of rules, she realized she couldn’t sit, eat, sleep or poop in the house. But she revelled in the fact the house was now ruled completely, without compromises, difficulties or irregularities.  The first time in weeks, she felt happy, trying to sleep outside her entrance door, crammed and curled like a small mouse, cold and wet under the winter rain.  never mind, if you bring up irregularities, she may tell you about the great constipation she had recently, when she had to give a birth to a warhead. and really, the details aren’t pretty.  i should continue that thread and turn it into a short story. sounds mad eh? tell me if you can sniff a sellable movie script. we shall draw a deal. recently, ive been watching quite a bit of tv through internet.  one of my favourite web

on nineth day of the new decade, i had a great pleasure of playing two beautiful piano quartets with friends here in england.  i live in a small village called chinley in derbyshire.  there is where minnows weave.  about 45 min or an hour away from manchester (depending whether you drive or do the train), we are just a little dot in the middle of the gentle hills, in the peak district, the second most visited national parks of the world.  i think the honour of 'most-visited' goes to mt. fuji.  in 'mainstreet' chinley, we have a carpet shop (it's been there for ages and i am yet not sure how it retains its business), a chemist's, a royal post office, a deli store (i have yet to set my foot in there- they opened up for almost a year now i think?), a curry shop, a newsagents, a laundromat and a corner shop.  ooh and a hair dresser's and a hypnotist's office.  we actually do not have a pub in the village, so for a pint, we need to walk about ten minute down

it is a warp up, with more things to come.  the last day for the year.  where does time start and where does it end? i suppose it's all just for the reference. and through reference, once arbitrary markers gain great significance.  new year's is a funny one as there are so many different ones one may pick (gregorian, julian, solar, lunar, lunisolar, international fixed, arithmetic, astrological, hindu, fiscal, you get the gist) and with the variety, one could almost pick and choose the one that matters to oneself.  but as far as generality goes, the big one would be the western calendar, gregorian. and i often get more analytical than i need to with certain things, like celebration, like the new year's.  perhaps im the necessary reactionary of the world, bit off to the side, slightly off the track, though i do enjoy the general atmosphere of happy public.  it's just an unavoidable monkey look at life- what's underneath it? what is it really? what have it became an