June 7, 1998

You know, I was thinking about it, and I think I might like to live in New York City for a year, if only because I’m an architecture enthusiast. The only problem with moving to New York City with the plan to only be there a year is the drastic change my life would have to undergo. No need for a car in New York City. Better start to learn to use the subway and a few foreign languages for cab rides. Notice my thoughts are always stream-of-consciousness? Here I go, jumping to another idea, again. I know it may be hard for a lot of people who know me to believe, but I actually wanted to be an architect. Until I found out you have to be at least a decent artist in the first place. I can draw squares . . . sometimes. It just seems like everything I want to do with my life is out of my reach because I don’t have some natural talent that must be present before the ability to perform that job is even probable.
How do you describe music? How do you describe that beautiful note change? The seamless octave sliding of a skilled musician? That magnificient guitar solo with the beautiful round sound emanating from the body, the soul, of the instrument and obvious mastery of the instrument by the musician?
I had something else to say, but I can’t remember now. I guess it wasn’t important. Or was it?

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.