The weather changed as abruptly as the plot in "Bambi Meets Godzilla".

I'm off to marching band practice.

Without the Character

I wrote this a couple of months ago. My feelings haven't really changed, and I think I'm ready to express them now.

I had the privilege of exploring some of the campus today (funny how I thought I would have explored all of the campus by the end of my freshman year), though it was spurred on by a sociology assignment. I need to do things without having to be forced to. This is the problem I'm finding with college. I only do what I'm told, by necessity of being told to do nearly more than I can handle. I have no time to actually do what I want to do. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, though I can tell (write) you it is a tad annoying.

I like the photography lounge. It has personality, character, and...comfort. There's stuff (though nothing inappropriate) all over the walls (contained on the bulletin boards). The couch's don't match, but I had to fight myself to not sit down on them. They looked super comfortable. There was a coffee maker on a table off to the side. Students' work was up on display, relevant newspaper articles ready to read, and small jokes were dabbed about. Even I, a music major, felt comfortable just standing in the empty lounge (today is Sunday).

I like the new music building for the most part. There is one thing I miss terribly though. The old lounge. It too had character. And it was comfortable. The new one has only marble benches (without cushion), bulletin boards with nothing on them except for rehearsal schedules, and a bar with plastic stools on which you can work on your computer. I understand the meaning and the concept. I just don't agree with it I think. Maintaining the professionalism of the department and spurring students on to practice is good, but what about when I need a break? If music is still regarded as an art (and I most certainly regard it as one), then shouldn't spontaneity and creativity be fueling the atmosphere? White walls and marble benches, though looking crisp and clean, make me want to leave. Maybe it's on purpose. That's fine I suppose, and I'll respect the wishes of the department. I do understand that this space will be more public than the last one, with the concert hall being just around the corner.

Maybe it just hasn't been broken in yet.

Still, I'm a student. And I like to find ways to look like a hobo I guess; that's what I'm told anyway.

Composition

Lately I've had the opportunity to do a bit more writing (music and a short play) than I normally do. It's been great. I remember in high school I used to write short stories all of the time, usually churning them out about once a month or so. I should consider setting aside some more time to write, since I enjoy it so much.

The problem with writing is that I don't get to spend as much time reading (listening). And I find reading so much more useful because those guys are smarter than me, and I find that I can learn more. It's kind of like that mantra you are told when you're a kid, "You have two ears and only one mouth for a reason." The problem is, I have two hands with which to type. Maybe God intended us to always use a pen...

To think my ideas are better than the ones already out there is quite pretentious (and obnoxiously arrogant) of me though. And it's not that I think my ideas are better, it's just that writing helps me to think. And I like thinking.

Plus, I've decided that I'm not creative. I don't think there's anything I am able to create, only things I can discover and present anew. Somebody commented on a song I was playing a few weeks ago, remarking how much he liked it, so I taught him the simple chord progression. He kept telling me how brilliant it was, and how he loves to show other people (and he always credits me, which is nice, though I think unnecessary) but I really didn't feel all that brilliant. Sure, I didn't copy it from someone, but the notes are already there. All I did was discover them. That doesn't make me a genius. Just...lucky I suppose, with a dash of observant (but not even that much).

Laggard

Busy, rather.

It's hard to believe that I was this occupied in either of my last (first) two semesters. Alas, here I find myself. Tomorrow I get to play in the Cotton Bowl with the PRIDE; ever since they put in the new turf it's been impossible to sound well in there. We'll see how tomorrow goes.

I do have to get up rather early. By that I mean I have to get up in seven hours or so. I think anytime I mean I have to get up "early" I mean anytime I have only six or seven hours to sleep. Really early would mean four or five. I need to just say what I mean.

I have been thinking about that lately, intentional diction. We Americans say (and do) a plethora of things that really have no meaning; or we say things we don't mean in the dramatic. I know it's sometimes funny, but I've found it really confusing. I think I'm going to make a better effort to say exactly what I wish to communicate from now on (which doesn't mean I give up the metaphor, because that is just a method of description, not a misplaced intention), if only to satisfy my own conscience.

Good night, all.