I'm drinking a Yebisu beer right now -- brought over from Japan.
I'm almost done my degree. I have to write another essay, revise some poetry, revise a non-fiction article (I'm finally understanding non-fiction, my brain has learned a trick, and is very, very relieved). I may have to make a short movie for a film class. I have some ideas, mainly about a guy who visits his neighbour and is totally blown away by all of the small things -- the way the wood on the stairs is cut, the way the closet is shaped, etc.
It's an effort to mirror a narrative structure based on one person visiting another place, as in "Lost in Translation," except the culture gap is far less than East/West. I want to remove the good/bad, strange/not-strange, us/them, familiar/other dichotomy, and basically say that the small things are hardly things at all. "We're just a living people," as Cat Power says.
I do need to develop two other characters.
Yesterday was a long day in front of a computer -- I hammered out 3,700 words and brought it down to 2,800 words thanks to a very lovely girl. Many thanks in that regard. It's weird how someone can spend 30 minutes looking at something and offer more help than a prof.
My brother from Japan is in town, and he, his Japanese wife, my other brother, and I went to the mall. I had a raspberry julius, and we spent a lot of time in shoe and kitchen stores. I wanted a Mannergarten, and told the other guys about it while we sat around waiting. They thought it a good idea.
I put my Metallica CDs out of sight years ago, and the other day I brought them out, and I haven't been able to stop playing Reload, arguably their 2nd worst album. I don't know what it is. . . I think it's Kirk Hammett's guitar style, and Lars, for some reason. . . his drumming is very strange. Nearly really bad, but so deliberate and spot-on at the same time. The bass needs to be higher in the mix. The ego gets in the way.
Tonight -- rehearsal, tomorrow, rehearsal, the day after, a performance, a show on the first, a show on the 2nd, a tour in June spanning Victoria to Montreal. I get to write the press releases, which will be good. I get to apply my degree to my music almost instantaneously.
There's no reasonable explanation. Most people tackle large, socio-economic issues with their final essays. Me, I went to the Bottle Depot and hung out with bums on the street. I ended cutting one of the bums out of the article. One bum was funnier than the other, but the bum I went with offered me an ending I couldn't refuse. How strange it is to think that it's only now that I understand a transition!
Billy picked up a piece of wood, and later that day, he thought of the things in the back yard from yesterday. . . lol
Posted by matty-b at March 24, 2005 6:37 PM