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.

The Antiquity of Post-modernity

Jesus answered, "You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me."

"What is truth?" Pilate asked.

John 18:37-38

How...Roman of him. I can see Pilate there, listening to this Jew's claim of royalty, ready to be rid of this mess Jesus has caused him. Pilate, paranoid and tired of the Jews' antics, just wanted Caesar's approval, nobody else's. But he had a 'civil' mind. Oh, the absurdity of the 'civil' mind.

"What is truth?" How...post-modern of him!

I've always made the connection between Roman and American history, just how much faster America's is advancing. It seems Romans had this (I think) laziness of thought too.

What is truth?

Bah.

That question, which I hear frequently (though maybe in different words), makes me want to scream. How do we know we actually exist? What is feeling, sensing? Who are we to decide reality? Look in front of you, oh indecisive one! The reality (truth) is right there! Stop taking the easy way out by way of "philosophizing" and look around you. Even if this "isn't truly reality" and "maybe there's a big something above us just doing magic tricks in front of our eyes" it doesn't change our experience. We can only react accordingly to what we know, and what we know is right in front of us, so stop this nonsensical questioning!

The ivory tower is a dangerous place to reside, a place only where you confuse yourself with your own thoughts. Want to know you're alive? Go downtown and visit the projects. Get involved with somebody who needs your help. You'll know you're alive.

Return

And so summer begins rolling to a close. And what a summer it was!

I think I've probably done more this summer with one-and-a-half jobs than I have any summer doing all kinds of odd jobs and vacations. By 'done,' I suppose I mean 'experienced.' Just being in the city was completely new to me, much less working in it. And then these kids. Maybe one day they will realize how much they affected Mr. Chris. Not everything was hunky dory, but anything worthwhile never is. That's the beauty of it I think, the mess.

This summer has been difficult for me--mentally I suppose. I've been (still am) struggling with my major, the current one being music. All summer long I've felt as if I'm cut out for more than that, maybe physics, or some kind of sociology, or psychology. One thing I've learned this summer, I love teaching. I LOVE teaching. Few things excite me more than watching people grow in every facet, and that's one thing I loved about working with the ASA. So I came to the conclusion about two weeks ago I'd probably end up being some kind of science teacher, and I changed my major accordingly, and even bought the text books I'd need.

Then Mr. R hired me on staff for my old high school's band camp.

I think I still want to be a music educator. Boy, when those horns played halfway through camp, when they actually broke out of their shell and BLEW, I knew I was exactly where I wanted to be.

I have some tough decisions to make in the next couple of days.

There Are Instances in Life in Which You Must Reassess...

"The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand it, we must act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God."

~Soren Kierkegaard

Boom.

I have been struggling lately with trying to "find my purpose" and trying to "discern the will of God" so as to direct my future. I'm kind of dumb, just so you know. The purpose? It's right there in that book. The will? It's also right there. There's nothing to translate (figuratively, of course, it's been translated already) in order to merge it into my life. I think it's a matter of translating my life into it.

~Luke 9:23-24

I really complicate things too much.