meant to post this at 11/11:30 last night, but blogger was acting up...
i find that either jet lag or just my ridiculous lack of sleep makes sleeping, namely 1/2 hour naps or quick dozing off on the bus, more like a drunken stupor that one passes in and out of.
the dreams in of themselves are hazy even while i'm in them, somehow lacking that odd oblivious clarity. it's almost as if someone is smoking in my head, creating that foggy atmosphere visually and in the way it feels. remembering them is quite frankly impossible; i do however tend to remember certain parts that make me shiver and squirm about.
get him out of my dreams, please?
please?
yet i somehow seem to forget what parts of the dreams are about germany or the jazz band, the last thing i recall before waking up was the band director asking the piano player to hold up his piano (we played at two elementary schools today, we showed them our instruments and the director joked about not asking the piano player to hold up the piano. he then told me to hold my bass up and then had me stand because i'm too short. 5'6.5 isn't that short...)
this foggy stupor tends to make me forget where i am; lucid dreaming has altogether left me despite its long history in my brain.
i wake up all hazy, stumbling about and it takes me a minute to realize where i am; the fact that i'm in a foreign country for the first time in my life does not help the situation. 'where am i? who am i?' and hitting my head on the vaulted ceiling seem to be the norm.
alright, so i only hit my head on the ceiling as i was plugging in the lamp.
i like the power sockets here, quite satisfying to put plug-in to socket as it reminds me of legos. not in form but just the fit.
yes.
i enjoy plugging stuff in because it reminds me of lego bricks.
"Small minds are concerned with the extraordinary, great minds with the ordinary." -Blaise Pascal
...
i suppose wall sockets and children's toys do not count...
the villages here are wonderful...
i love how things are set up, the houses, this house is quite wonderful... the view is wonderful as well.
i quite like living in a quaint, old village that you have to drive through another village or so and plenty of country roads to arrive at.
'charming' i suppose...
'perfect' also comes to mind even if there are not a lot of yards with trees. there are however patios and people that enjoy spending time outside.
haha, and the people that i have met are wonderful.
like at the gasthaus last night; the owners worked there, it was a small family establishment... perhaps not 'establishment' as it was their home! their coat of arms certificate hung by the door, you walk through the house to get to the back yard, their living room with the television is the smoking room, the old radio is turned on and it reminds me of the 30/40s. you sit in plastic lawn chairs in the back yard with old striped yellow and white cushions; the menus in english have not had their prices changed yet and their prices raised over a year ago, the cook's husband can barely speak english and hasn't a clue what they say even if you point at them. as you order you can see into the kitchen were the cook (a very lovely older lady) swigs at a pitcher of beer whilst cooking. 'hospitality' is a bit of an understatement as she will give you a slab of bacon if you simply mention that you enjoy it very much and would like to know where she gets it. apparently after some beer her english gets much better!
that is the extent of my meeting the locals as we are working with department of defense schools and are staying with teachers at the base schools. for these next few days we are leastways; then we move on to churches, festivals, etc.
the first truck i saw here was a tacoma.
there are three tacomas on the base that i have seen thus far...
that made me happy eve if they were newer than my favorite years...
so my dad could work on toyotas and the american cars on base, or for the dealership i saw in town, and my mom could be a school psyche for a DOD school, perfect!
there are a lot of nice cars on base, shelby cobras, the most beautiful blue mustang i've ever seen and then a black striped one, chargers, corvettes, the aforementioned tacomas that take the prize for best vehicle on base...
well i think so...
today we played for two elementary schools; the kids enjoyed it greatly. it was fun talking to the kindergarteners and such before the concert. after the concert this morning at least the dozens of kids wanting the band's autograph, the waiting by the 'tour bus' excitedly as we put our gear away was very... odd. haha, suppose i got a taste of the rock star life? suppose elementary screaming fans are a bit different, yet all the same they were...
i'm going to use 'charming' a lot for some odd reason.
what really struck me was that these were all good kids, in most public schools i immediatly discover a handful of kids that need straightening per every ten kids. but all of these kids were polite, funny, sweet, respectful, silly... perhaps military bases just bring them up that way, wish public schools were that nice. perhaps it's just the public schools that i have experienced.
i have not been reading 'picture of dorian gray' unfortunatly...
i wish i could, yet i find that sleep is quite necessary...
watched 'the terminal' with our host family...
i quite enjoyed the movie, i managed to stay awake by playing with their cat. she's a lovely black cat, small, and like to play. she purrs constantly and this morning as i was getting ready she hopped in the empty bathtub and began washing herself.
i just brushed my teeth, staring at her in silence.
she gave me the oddest look, 'what? isn't this what you're supposed to do? brush your teeth.'
i did as i was 'told'
yesterday after flying and being awake for so long i certainly felt out of sorts...
for me i must have my teeth brushed, face washed, hair not a frizzed mess... just have to feel clean. organized.
i may get dirt on my feet from running around barefoot, yet that's different.
random:
felt wonderful today, rain...
haha, suppose that since i feel at home in the weather, the grass, the trees...
no matter where i am i can feel at home.
always been that way, always.
when i was small and we would be at a hotel for a night or two i would unpack everything and put it in its specific place. i knew we were not there for long, but while i was in a nice spacious room i wanted to be organized and at home, glasses in the nightstand, shirts in this drawer, shoes placed neatly under the bed...
i was an odd child.
however...
i think then i was just trying to make a desperate attempt for anything to feel like home.
anything...
i always tried to start a family game night...
wanted to clean the table off so we'd have no excuse not to eat at the table...
i wanted to eat at the table with my parents, not in front of the television.
i always would do the same thing each Christmas in hopes of making a family tradition that no one ended up remembering.
i think the only one that stuck was me watching the old taped 'home alone' we have while i was putting the tree up...
by myself, if it was up to my parents the tree wouldn't be up.
i remember the first time i felt at home outside...
third grade i believe, sitting in the chair-swing at my babysitter's house with her son that was 4 years younger than i sitting across from me.
they lived in the country, had a horse that i would make a platter of grass for and serve it to him on a frisbee.
i looked out and saw the sun setting while sitting there, the clear warm sunlight and the tall cool shadows the trees cast...
i said 'justin, you know, there will never be another minute just like this. with that same sunset. at this same time. in this same place. in this exact moment of our lives. with this exact thought and this feeling... never. it's amazing how it works that way...'
haha...
i was 8 when i said this?
perhaps not everything has changed in the past 11 or so years.
justin was of course 4/5, perfect for playing the lewis to my clark as we explore the woods as i would discover in those coming years (and their large mastiff made a perfect Seaman even if he wasn't a newofundland!) yet talking to him like that i suppose was lost. he didn't get it at all.
but in the coming years i suppose i just learned that it felt right to be outside...
Lord, Your nature was out there...
and that was home.
learn that feeling...
and everything is home.
haha, i remember how excited i was when it turned cold...
why?
because the first day it was cold enough to pull out my old NHL blanket i knew that it was time to begin piling on blankets. i had the coldest room in the house and sleeping under a heap of blankets was my vice. jumping in bed (most of the time literally, of course,) and settling in under all of those blankets...
introvert corner?
i suppose, mm, indeed.
haha, i would wait all fall for 'hockey blanket day!' as i called it... i knew that falling asleep feeling at home in introvert corner with the feeling of home and belonging was coming.
that's also what introvert corner is.
home.
*random
odd how cynicism, heartbreak, anger, frustration...
odd how cynicism, heartbreak, anger, frustration...
it all makes for good reading.
good poetry.
good art.
as a painter says there is too much of himself in a painting to exhibit it...
"poets are not so scrupulous as you are. they know how useful passion is for publication. nowadays a broken heart will run many editions. "
the view of reality is quite interesting as the rest of the passage goes on to show...
this is from dorian gray...
reminds me of 'the poet's life' that i sang for my jury...
both songs i sang were oddly fitting.
wonderfully fitting.
'che fiero costume' indeed.
i must wake in 7.5 hours...
i fear that as long as i feel that i need some sort of thought at the end of the day that i will never recover the sleep i so desperatly need...
yet i also need to shower or lose my feelings of clean-cut organization.
it's probably a good thing that i'm not a guy, i would shave fifteen times a day.
okay, not that much.
but then again one never knows.
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