Wednesday, October 10, 2012

at my best

IMG_535312.31.2010 - 3

At my best, I'm always up for a drink, always up for a good time.  So what's happened lately?  I've been moping and moaning, screeching like a nancy.  And it's got to stop.  Seriously man, if I don't, my friends aren't going to be my friends for long.  I always thought I knew how to handle stress, but lately, it's been a bit overwhelming.  Work and applications and just a lot of personal stuff just starting to add up.  I'm having trouble dealing with it.  But it's no excuse to act like a wet mop.

This is me and one of my "uncles" here in Toronto, my favourite drinking buddy. I like boozing with him not (only) because he drinks recklessly but because his joy is contagious.  I have a chronic issue with over-thinking the shit out of everything - as a certain zen concept teaches, you have to empty your mind to find the truth in what you're doing.  Heady stuff, but it applies here too.  I keep thinking about all the work that still needs to be done that I completely forget to live in the moment, enjoy the people I'm with now and what we're doing.  That's no way to live.  So I've got about 2 more months of this carnage left, and I'm going to live up the experience, because most likely, this will be the only time I'll ever be applying to graduate school.

I don't want to be talking about personal problems here, but hopefully, we can work things out and everything can go back to normal.  Right.  At my best, I'm the best kind of company.  Just need to remind myself of what that's like again.  When you're performing (piano that is) no matter where, concert hall or otherwise . . . you're always just wound up beforehand, all nervous energy.  Shaking even.  But there's a point after they call your name, when you're in front of the bench, looking out on the audience.  And then, just silence.  That's the moment all performers are addicted to, that moment when you know you're in control - absolute control - and you've got the audience at your fingertips.  I miss that a lot.  It's that addictive ride of nerves, calm, and adrenaline, ending with you soaking in your audience's applause and adoration.  Those days are long gone for me, but still chasing that thrill.


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