many days later

The lake is frozen as far as I can see. That's not exactly true. When on what used to be the beach--even when walking out over the ice ridges--there's no water to be seen. From up by the cliff, though, I think I can see what looks like liquid water. I walked out over the congealed ice balls over the ridge where I made the wave video last week and found a new ridge. The new one is much more dramatic, so I was going over the edge, not being certain I could make it back up. Throwing caution to the relatively calm wind, I went over the second ridge and wandered around in the vast desert of ice balls. Two amazing things: one, since I took the photo with my iPhone, iPhoto knows where I was when I took it and knows that I was out in the lake; two, my phone actually changed time zones back to Chicago/Indiana time while I was away from shore. I almost felt like an arctic explorer; it was a unique experience to explore this landscape, especially considering it is temporary and may never exist again. And yet, I was still tethered to reality by my phone.

I got to Michigan Monday afternoon after a crazy weekend. Saturday was my favorite, although it wore me out and I had to crash early. Sunday was nice but more calm and predictable. Saturday went like this: wake on a futon, drive friends to their i-Go car, make camp in a cafe, shower at a friends, get a text about dim sum, walk 4 blocks to dim sum, take train to coffee, meet someone for coffee, call up Laura, meet her and Joe at a cafe, then falafel at Sultan's, go to Myopic, almost buy Doctor Faustus, and then start to feel out of sorts. The Damen bus led me right back to Andersonville and I crashed on the couch watching South Park online. Wore me out. Sunday was coffee at the Coffee Studio, which has great coffee but is crowded so I stress about the seating situation, bagel with Amos to discuss music, coffee with Brian, food with Sarah, Gallery Cabaret for the open mic, denied (too many people had signed up, no room at the inn), then to a bar with Anna, Peter, and his French friend with whom he wanted me to talk French.

Discussions this weekend included: what makes an opera; how recordings are like pornography; how we have a crisis of imagination in this country; spectral music; my music needing contrasting themes; and so on.

That last one is interesting. In my music, I strive to create organic change. I start with the zygote and then grow it into a fetus and then birth it. Traditional Classical music has contrasting themes, acting as the thesis and antithesis, coming together to form a synthesis. Turns out I just start with the synthesis and work it out from there. A friend and fellow composer thinks I should start incorporating contrasting themes in my music. I'm not sure he's wrong; it's a good way to challenge myself. And a good time to rethink how I think about the world. I'm happy seeing the big picture, but it's helpful to break unities into their component dualities.