Today I woke
up and thought, “Wow! It’s spring
today! We made it!”
I leaped out of bed, something I have done immediately after hearing my alarm for several mornings in a row now. I spent the first few moments looking through my window in the world by viewing the basic lines of communication available to most everyone, at least in this society. I then went into that beautiful chamber
with the running water that flows freely from somewhere that requires no effort
from me other than to turn the knob, pull the curtain, and stand where I have
figured out that the water hits my skin with the correct temperature and pressure. I have been in places where this is not the
case, or is not available, so I try to remember it whenever I can. Then I grabbed a towel that someone else designed and manufactured, dried this body, and went to the kitchen to grab a pan, fill it with water once again magically transported through a conduit of pipes I've never seen. Then I heated it on a stove connected to gas which I trust is in fine working order and will not explode like that building on the other side of Harlem last week. Then I went to my room to put on clothes that other people designed and put together for everybody who has the money, which is most people, including me. I returned to the kitchen for the hot water, poured it into a mug given to me by a cousin, and then placed a bag of toasted Japanese green tea to steep for a few minutes. Then I put some peanut butter on wheat bread and went to my room. I ate, drank milk and sipped tea while re-reading my web log from about seven hours earlier, editing any sentences that could have been written better. I did so by using a machine that is very easy to come by these days, and connects you to a network of human information and imagination so vast and readily accessible that it still boggles my mind how normal it seems to me and just about everybody. Where do we go from here? That's the fun of it, I suppose.
The walk to work was pleasant, sunny and warm, as the first day of spring should be. I removed my headphones to hear the songs of the chirping birds in the trees, a rarity in New York City.
Class was fun today. I'm really enjoying these new classes. Although I enjoyed my level 4 classes, it is so much more enjoyable to be able to communicate more skills and information to the advanced students. Today we discussed the types of music we like to listen to and what that says about our personalities. Somehow I ended up explaining the history of American music, from slavery to jazz and blues to rock and roll, funk and hip-hop.
During the break I went downstairs and outdoors to the deli three stores down. It is run by a friendly Chinese couple who knows my face well by now. Before I got out the door I heard someone call my name. It was a student from Ghana who took my first two classes. He drives a taxi, loves to read out loud even though he sounds like a strange version of auto-correct on a cell phone, and once gave me an interesting perspective by reporting that his neighborhood in the Bronx is filled with people from his country, so he has a close community where he says hello to people he knows on the street on a regular basis. I have people I can call to meet, but certainly no community in my neighborhood. Then again, there is one friend nearby, which is a lot for me these past few years. I think this student is one of the few people I know who I've seen on the street since I've moved to NY, and that was only because we were both in the school anyway. That being said, it's a great feeling to know most of the students by now, and even if they're not in the class anymore, they still see me in the hall, say hello and shake my hand. It's not a way to make a great living, but now that I feel more relaxed, experienced and in control of the creative direction of the class, it's definitely becoming a great way to make a living on the way to making a greater living. Or something like that. The universe knows.
The next class somehow involved me explaining how presidents make decisions, student loans and all sorts of other things. Afterward I went home to many chores that must be done continually, but I am content to do them because I feel rewarded to have a place to be where I can be me. I am lucky to have clothes that needed to be washed, and a car that needed to be moved, and a room that needed to be swept, and shelves that needed to be cleaned, and food that needed to be cooked and eaten, and products that were wrapped in things that became garbage that needed to be taken out, and weights that needed to be lifted, and replacement food that needed to be bought, and hairs on my face just outside the beard zone that needed to be shaved, and hairs on my face inside the beard zone that needed to be trimmed, and pictures of places (I had been to lucky to go) that needed to be reinforced on the wall, and other pictures that needed to be put up in the first place, and a web log that needed to be filled with new words.
Luckily, someone designed and put together an iPod a long time ago. Even luckier, many excellent people earned the right to call themselves musicians and artists through learning and refining the craft of channeling the music of the spheres, and this music is now easily available on this small iPod device for our personal enjoyment. It definitely makes doing chores more fun.
I am still in 1968 on my classic rock playlist, and it is truly a very good year. I'm not stuck in the 60's though, or hip-hop, or modern rock. I don't believe in adhering to systems absolutely, even if I create them. So I rebel against my own lists whenever I want to and listen to my favorite songs whenever I want to. There's a seven song streak on my Top 25 that constantly brings me from the ambient world of Aphex Twin through the wonderful treasures of a Red Hot Chili Peppers instrumental, the San Francisco Orchestra opening for Metallica, Ludovico Einaudi on piano, Hiromi Uehara playing back-to-back songs on piano with a trio and solo respectively, J Dilla "going out and making a name for himself," Popa Wu of the Wu-Tang Clan giving advice on how far we've come along, and Hiromi Uehara once again dazzling whoever is listening with vivacious vibrations and windy sensations.
I am lucky that I have a story that needs to be told, and people who wish me to share it, and a mind-body-spirit that allows me to feel it, see it, smell it, taste it and hear it.
Thank you life for the eyes and the ears and the mind and the heart and the hands and the feet and the body and the art and this view of the street and the people I meet and the lands and the water and my mother and my father and all those things you make me bother to do for U and all of us who pull through and make do for love's sake: you.
As a sign in a city once told me: "KEEP MOVING!"
The walk to work was pleasant, sunny and warm, as the first day of spring should be. I removed my headphones to hear the songs of the chirping birds in the trees, a rarity in New York City.
Class was fun today. I'm really enjoying these new classes. Although I enjoyed my level 4 classes, it is so much more enjoyable to be able to communicate more skills and information to the advanced students. Today we discussed the types of music we like to listen to and what that says about our personalities. Somehow I ended up explaining the history of American music, from slavery to jazz and blues to rock and roll, funk and hip-hop.
During the break I went downstairs and outdoors to the deli three stores down. It is run by a friendly Chinese couple who knows my face well by now. Before I got out the door I heard someone call my name. It was a student from Ghana who took my first two classes. He drives a taxi, loves to read out loud even though he sounds like a strange version of auto-correct on a cell phone, and once gave me an interesting perspective by reporting that his neighborhood in the Bronx is filled with people from his country, so he has a close community where he says hello to people he knows on the street on a regular basis. I have people I can call to meet, but certainly no community in my neighborhood. Then again, there is one friend nearby, which is a lot for me these past few years. I think this student is one of the few people I know who I've seen on the street since I've moved to NY, and that was only because we were both in the school anyway. That being said, it's a great feeling to know most of the students by now, and even if they're not in the class anymore, they still see me in the hall, say hello and shake my hand. It's not a way to make a great living, but now that I feel more relaxed, experienced and in control of the creative direction of the class, it's definitely becoming a great way to make a living on the way to making a greater living. Or something like that. The universe knows.
The next class somehow involved me explaining how presidents make decisions, student loans and all sorts of other things. Afterward I went home to many chores that must be done continually, but I am content to do them because I feel rewarded to have a place to be where I can be me. I am lucky to have clothes that needed to be washed, and a car that needed to be moved, and a room that needed to be swept, and shelves that needed to be cleaned, and food that needed to be cooked and eaten, and products that were wrapped in things that became garbage that needed to be taken out, and weights that needed to be lifted, and replacement food that needed to be bought, and hairs on my face just outside the beard zone that needed to be shaved, and hairs on my face inside the beard zone that needed to be trimmed, and pictures of places (I had been to lucky to go) that needed to be reinforced on the wall, and other pictures that needed to be put up in the first place, and a web log that needed to be filled with new words.
Luckily, someone designed and put together an iPod a long time ago. Even luckier, many excellent people earned the right to call themselves musicians and artists through learning and refining the craft of channeling the music of the spheres, and this music is now easily available on this small iPod device for our personal enjoyment. It definitely makes doing chores more fun.
I am still in 1968 on my classic rock playlist, and it is truly a very good year. I'm not stuck in the 60's though, or hip-hop, or modern rock. I don't believe in adhering to systems absolutely, even if I create them. So I rebel against my own lists whenever I want to and listen to my favorite songs whenever I want to. There's a seven song streak on my Top 25 that constantly brings me from the ambient world of Aphex Twin through the wonderful treasures of a Red Hot Chili Peppers instrumental, the San Francisco Orchestra opening for Metallica, Ludovico Einaudi on piano, Hiromi Uehara playing back-to-back songs on piano with a trio and solo respectively, J Dilla "going out and making a name for himself," Popa Wu of the Wu-Tang Clan giving advice on how far we've come along, and Hiromi Uehara once again dazzling whoever is listening with vivacious vibrations and windy sensations.
I am lucky that I have a story that needs to be told, and people who wish me to share it, and a mind-body-spirit that allows me to feel it, see it, smell it, taste it and hear it.
Thank you life for the eyes and the ears and the mind and the heart and the hands and the feet and the body and the art and this view of the street and the people I meet and the lands and the water and my mother and my father and all those things you make me bother to do for U and all of us who pull through and make do for love's sake: you.
As a sign in a city once told me: "KEEP MOVING!"
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