And Do It Next
Thursday. Editing yesterdays' entry this morning I was wondering what I was talking about in saying things seem to be coming together: the days sharper, the attitude better. You'd think all that would spill over into the writing. The copy. The scribbles. Then again, what the hell, life - up or down - still stumbles forward, we shall not complain.
To bed later than earlier, but a good night's sleep none the less, up with the alarm. Off to breakfast and back, home now under an overcast sky that gives some hope of turning into (intermittent) periods of sun. A good day, in other words, here inside the radon emitting domiciles of Oakland.
Oh, something I read in the Times this morning about the EPA and how it's eliminating funding for its radon program. Not good, radon. Causes cancer. Lots of it. I should probably avoid reading such things in the mornings over coffee, some of it seems to stick.
Anyway, my guitar lesson coming up at noon, time enough to go over this week's lesson. The day ahead, the weekend ahead.
Later. Some preparation on the guitar and then a (short) walk down to and along the lake and back, no desire to head anywhere from there. Not much of a start.
Off to the guitar lesson wondering how the parking would be this third time now driving over at noon. A space halfway up his hill (good), arriving some fifteen minutes early, so I waited out on the patio, comfortably sitting at a table in one of the metal chairs. A picture of the table opposite to see what it might look like, thinking what might be moved or arranged to create a more interesting effect. Not that I was planning on doing anything about it, you understand. We're just cruising here, sitting in a patio chair, playing with time.
A couple of pictures to futz with the aperture full open to f 2.8 as I've been realizing lately I've been stopping all my lenses down to f 8 and above without thinking as I headed out. There are many things you want in focus, foreground to background, but there are some things you don't. Portraits come to mind, candid and posed. The brain plays tricks. Do you suppose I'm the victim of a plot? An evil psychological alliance of internal forces (sharp as a tack) plot? No? I suspect not.
Anyway, a good lesson, the new one for this week adding additional Cinnamon Girl bars to be learned (which I find nice) as well as another blues riff. I think he was surprised I'd managed to memorize all of this last week's riff, given my recent performance history, but we're on now to the next. Altogether a good outing, we're making progress. Hup! And that.
A run by the supermarket for necessary stuff (yes, two of the small bottles of sake, we can't go forever without a taste), the larder not so empty now as it's been these last many weeks. So home in the mid-afternoon listening to the news playing in the background, thinking of getting out the guitar and playing the new stuff.
Evening. Managed to break a guitar string. Probably a good sign, unless it says something negative about my technique. I broke one not all that long ago (a week? two weeks?), so maybe it shows I'm pushing harder, doing better than I've pushed and done in the past.
Drank the two small bottles of sake over the course of two or three hours starting after three, finishing up after six, the buzz wearing off by eight. A bit surprising to see how strong they were for just the two, carried me through the early evening quite comfortably twisted, but still: two drinks having that great an effect? Well, maybe so, make a note, watch more carefully the next time we go out and do it next.