No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-06-04 - 9:58 p.m.

dig me, i'm a frickin' musician

look at me the addicted diary-writer. i don't know what to make of myself. in another context, maybe that's my problem.

big honking nasty headache tonight. ick.

lowen and navarro. kick such major ass. maybe tomorrow it will rain.

so dig me. i have always had like zero ear for music. if it wasn't written on a page for me or showed to me by someone, i couldn't play it. just no fricking way.

well a couple of days past i figured out how to play a harmonica solo by ear.

tonight i started with a song i'd never heard of and no idea how to play it. i figured out enough of the chords to guess as to the key (though i still have zero idea how to play the chorus) then based on that actually started figuring out the slide solo. just me and my little old ears.

i'm starting to feel like a honest-to-pete-sampras musician.

doesn't help the headache, but i'm sorta happy anyhoo.

a thing jo3 said last night that i'm still chewing on.

me, about SoccerGirl and busyness "yeah, it doesn't sound like she doesn't want to see me, but just doesn't have the time."

jo3 "one amounts to much the same as the other, though doesn't it?"

me "yeah. but there's still hope."

jo3 "yeah there's always hope, and it's either fulfilled or crushed."

my apologies to jo3 for my less-than-perfect memory of what was actually said, cause it was more eloquent by far than what i just set down. it was not by any means a pessimistic or cruel remark. it was just true.

i know that both jo3 and i have had our fair share (or more) of crushing in that particular area. i know i hold on to hope the more tightly as a result, and i suspect it is the same for him.

hmmm...i just realized how much of my writing here in the past days has been about being the lonely, misunderstood nice guy. you know god's gift to sensitive women going unnoticed. i don't really think that i am god's gift to anyone. again, maybe that's my problem. i don't usually spend so much time dwelling on this crap. i guess meeting someone i like has stirred it all up.

maybe i should just go back to talking about SmogMonkey.

let's not end there. i won't let another entry slide down into drearyness and then end. no, let's remember that i'm so very psyched about music right now.

yeah, that's right. dig me, musician-guy. who's the big winner here tonight?

that's right. i'm the big winner.

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