—ongoing weekly ruminations and ideas (some of which are prematurely harvested) on composers and their music—
an observation on THE WEEK as the most humane quanta of time:
it is a terribly easy thing for some to lose the habit of living. that daily sequence of happenings which the rest take as a given can be for some (the all too eager, for example) an obstacle to the future: a constant source of proof against that future. from my very own experience—and with the advice gleaned from half a shelf-full of the previous century’s french novelists—i am beginning to properly estimate just how much pain and suffering in the world is owed to young idealists who lose this habit. the habit, for example, of fussing over the bargain price of day-old bread; joining in on the chirrup of complaints against the tardiness of the local public transit; replacing shoelaces just before they’re completely useless; taking seriously the universal mantra of “shut up and eat”—there is, thankfully, a never ending list of things to do in the meantime. a bottomless chest of bells and whistles to sound out whilst waiting for the new jerusalem...(or whatever other version of a grand social plan the poor gaunt fellow is fidgeting over). indeed, how inexhaustible the laundry list of things to do in the meantime (laundry, for example)—of course, the secret mission that even the the cheapest french novela leaves to the imagination, is a kind of forgetting. one hopes that in this meantime the self-hypnosis induced under the vistas of now might be enough to lull every dreamer away from the infinite perhaps of tomorrow. consequently. consequently; consequently--there can be no better envelope of time for the delivery of this secret parcel: a week is precisely long enough for a brief epic, and brief enough for the long procession of absolutely nothing happening.
But that’s enough; I shall write no more from the underground… ““ fyodor dostoevsky, Notes From Underground
other things i do: sweating (for no obvious reason); completing a neuroscience/human biology degree at the university of toronto; compulsively checking my pockets to see if i’ve enough change for an americano; reading nietzsche and pretending it’s not life-changing; reading/writing poetry;