Plies
Plies ok. not piles.
Played so many wrong notes on that tiny piano today. That piano har...I am very certain it is not normal sized!!! But they were happy mistakes, cos though while the chords were theoretically "wrong", they would be "right" if the style were changed...and now I'm itching to change them!
And then i think of sibelius, and i remember i still have not made up that estrellita a perfect 5th down. Oops. Ok sorry, I'm a selfish pig who's only concerned with work, sorry sorry sorry. Saw your photos btw, just how many photographers did you have taking pictures of you blowing out the candle on the cake?? It kind of looks like the photographic equivalent of surround sound!
It's a saturday, and saturdays are those days where music is played and children are laughed at and the mind is left to skip randomly through the green pastures of imagination (while one's physical self is stuck with a wrong-sized piano).
And today's mini-story is of a little girl tickling another little girl, ferociously. Yes, ferociously. As in, "COOCHI COOCHI COO!!!" Like that. -_-" What do they teach them in playschool nowadays :S
Been out of the office for two weeks straight. With the last week being a really bizarre one running between regular building and the meeting venue for three days straight. And missed the very event I organised. Then checked in with the email and my life flashes before my eyes. 150 new emails on one computer alone. damnit. As if two weeks of hauling a laptop, a thick document file, and sometimes a violin and the gym gear isn't enough. And networking like a job whore. Gosh the perils of networking. I must be becoming more of a hermit than before. Back hurt so much went for massage. Which hurt alot more than usual. So in the end back still hurts. Time to perform that magic of creating time out of no time at all, again.
I wonder if there are seasick people in venice.
And the last week's meeting wasn't too bad. Sure, that niggling feeling of surrounding yourself with people who support you and your vision still stays. But the situation doesn't quite have as strong an effect as before, which is great. It's all in the cool compartmentalization of the mind. Just as it is with the sometimes essential compartmentalization of life.
I heard you on the sprain, but didn't stop to respond. Because what would I be listening to? And how am I supposed to respond? It's just like running a simulation isn't it, rubbish in, rubbish out. Responses will be with respect to whatever real input materially received, the function h(t) that permutates it being based on previous experience. That should be quite an intelligent programme actually. So actually, not responding should really be quite an appropriate reaction. Because what would I get if I did the nice thing and asked? A "mind your own business" as before is what I'd reckon. I hate to lie and act, but I reckon very soon I'd no longer have any idea how to stop lying in this building, so being mute seems like an attractive alternative.
To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance
Oscar Wilde
Played so many wrong notes on that tiny piano today. That piano har...I am very certain it is not normal sized!!! But they were happy mistakes, cos though while the chords were theoretically "wrong", they would be "right" if the style were changed...and now I'm itching to change them!
And then i think of sibelius, and i remember i still have not made up that estrellita a perfect 5th down. Oops. Ok sorry, I'm a selfish pig who's only concerned with work, sorry sorry sorry. Saw your photos btw, just how many photographers did you have taking pictures of you blowing out the candle on the cake?? It kind of looks like the photographic equivalent of surround sound!
It's a saturday, and saturdays are those days where music is played and children are laughed at and the mind is left to skip randomly through the green pastures of imagination (while one's physical self is stuck with a wrong-sized piano).
And today's mini-story is of a little girl tickling another little girl, ferociously. Yes, ferociously. As in, "COOCHI COOCHI COO!!!" Like that. -_-" What do they teach them in playschool nowadays :S
Been out of the office for two weeks straight. With the last week being a really bizarre one running between regular building and the meeting venue for three days straight. And missed the very event I organised. Then checked in with the email and my life flashes before my eyes. 150 new emails on one computer alone. damnit. As if two weeks of hauling a laptop, a thick document file, and sometimes a violin and the gym gear isn't enough. And networking like a job whore. Gosh the perils of networking. I must be becoming more of a hermit than before. Back hurt so much went for massage. Which hurt alot more than usual. So in the end back still hurts. Time to perform that magic of creating time out of no time at all, again.
I wonder if there are seasick people in venice.
And the last week's meeting wasn't too bad. Sure, that niggling feeling of surrounding yourself with people who support you and your vision still stays. But the situation doesn't quite have as strong an effect as before, which is great. It's all in the cool compartmentalization of the mind. Just as it is with the sometimes essential compartmentalization of life.
I heard you on the sprain, but didn't stop to respond. Because what would I be listening to? And how am I supposed to respond? It's just like running a simulation isn't it, rubbish in, rubbish out. Responses will be with respect to whatever real input materially received, the function h(t) that permutates it being based on previous experience. That should be quite an intelligent programme actually. So actually, not responding should really be quite an appropriate reaction. Because what would I get if I did the nice thing and asked? A "mind your own business" as before is what I'd reckon. I hate to lie and act, but I reckon very soon I'd no longer have any idea how to stop lying in this building, so being mute seems like an attractive alternative.
To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance
Oscar Wilde
posted by Fauna at 9:44 PM
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