Tannic Teeth

I have an admission to make. I love classical music.

Don’t get me wrong I still listen to Triple J and always on scope for new artists.

But who could disagree with music that HAS endured 350 years and still venerated, still played and still brings people (like me) to their knees in weeping piles for reasons unknown. This I’m confident to say is humanity’s greatest musical achievement. So where did it all go wrong? To disintegrate to the paltry offerings of Scremo, Death Metal and Gangsta Rap?

 My CD collection is massively outweighed by the Greats of Classical. And by classical I mean just that. Not REALLY into romantic classical or beyond where things get a little experimental – I’m not ready to appreciate the works of Wagner and Mahler.

I like the rules and conventions of Baroque and Early–Late Classical: J.S.Bach, C.P.E. Bach, Vivaldi and everybody’s favourite W.A. Mozart. Lesser known string works of Manfredini, Corelli, Geminiani, Locatelli – pretty much any Baroque Italian composer ending in ‘i’ are all fantastic in form and style. The Italians back then ruled the strings. They rule the Conerto Grosso.

J.S.BACH is the one that does it for me. I don’t know why but works of his make me stop and surrender. It’s a strange kind of liberation where you get lost into something beyond the music, perhaps it’s a sphere of emotion that becomes overwhelming – I just breakdown. For a man that devoted his life to music and to GOD (though I’m not condoning any religion here), he seems to have gotten close to the realm in musical form and connecting with the ‘Unknown’.  

Listen to these pieces in a relaxed state a few times and me what you feel.

Suite No. 3 in D major, BWV 988 – Air

Double Concerto in D minor BWV 1043- Largo ma non tanto

Goldberg Variations BWV 988 – Aria

Concerto in C minor for Violin and Oboe, BWV 1060- Adagio

I held it in my hands for a brief splice of space and time, 

And I let slip though my dexterousless fingers.

Falling stars do not last long.

Animi fractus

Coming out of my post convalescence stupor, I’m somewhat lost to the world around me. Like an absent minded drunk I could dance down the street merry making or burst out into tears on the sidewalk. I’m just plain confused. Uni is turning the pressure on and work is really not helping because I don’t want to be there . As if with the hand of a Shakespearean tragedy my inner upheaval (gastric and mental) has sent me into a spin. Well… I just need to get a grip on myself again.

Stop complaining like a little bitch and get on with life. YEAH that’s right!

Sushi is probably the best low fat, healthy fast-food out there. Except when it’s past its prime. Raw Salmon I would imagine goes off pretty quickly and factor in less-than-scrupulous handling and storage, you have yourself a recipie for gastro. That’s my story today.

I survived South East Asia eating off the street no problems (I even considered myself somewhat of an ‘iron stomach), so this sushi must have be particularly crawling with bugs. The fact that I bought 2 packets and had the other one in a cooler bag for about an hour in the car probably didn’t help. It was warm when I ate it, so alarm bells should have gone off them.

My only consolation is the fact that I bargained down the normally $6.50 packet to two for $10. She was reluctant to sell it to me, but she knows I’m a regular. And now I have gastro pains and well I’ve been doing what people who have gastro do… and it’s not vomiting. As a last ditch effort to quell any internal seismic activity I’m sipping on Capari and soda (as we had no Lemonade). With its massively bitter middle and back palate with light citrus tones - it gets you nicely drunk on an empty stomach.

Now, only to wait this little bug out…

So week seven. How has the writing and new technologies course been so far?

It’s been good. As one would expect the pace of uni now has moved into hyper speed with a lots of assignments due all tragically within the same week. As if it was by some tormented creator everything else in my life is ramping up. Work would like more hours, I’m offered another job, I’ve got this photography thingo to do, I’m wanting to start yoga, got to think about writing next months wine article whilst taking on more of an editorial job. LOL. Really I should be a little more thorough in my work that i churn out here first as a good start point. Oh yeah what did this have to do with my reflections on the my course (shit - sorry!) umm yeah the course has taught me so far to look through texts as well as looking at them and that the digital realm is fluid and ever changing. one thing about it is that rules are broken in every genera. With all that now aside I feel like a beer. This was taken at the James Squire Chef Match Launch on Monday 8th Sept.

(Writing and New Technologies Exercise Week 7)

This day was not particularly cool – even for that time of year. The heat lurching up from the pavement only reflected more by the sun’s incessant rays. Every where there is concrete and bricks and mortar. Nature has been progressively  replaced and you feel trapped in this God forsaken city.  The Canal today is particularly rank. Its slow moving water peppered with flotsam from people upstream who cared not to dispose of their refuse on the street. You were told yesterday that young girl tried to kill herself there. She jumped into the fetid slow moving tributary and no one swam to her aid. If it wasn’t for that police officer – visiting his mistress in Nevsky prospect – that he wouldn’t have chanced upon her splashing. Why did she just not put her head under and drown herself quickly, effectively and without fuss or botherment. You think maybe she changed her mind mid jump, as her dress parachuted out. Or perhaps it was the refreshing, though, squalid water, seeping though her fine lace corset that made her feel alive once again.

You saw this whole scene unfold in the corner of your eye walking up to cross Kazansky Bridge. She was a little dollop of cream on the corner of the plate then, she vanished into the water. You gave a shout which ultimately attracted the attention of the Policeman Utyosov who came running. Surprisingly it didn’t take long for him to remove all his clothes before diving in to save the girl; in fact it was like as if  he was already half disrobed, making the whole scene look like a melodramatic play unfolding by corny street actors. The girl was making far too much noise for someone that had the intention of self destruction. Utyosov was a not a tall man nor was he particularly short. He was of portly proportions though, looking like he had been stuffed into his cloths, the fabric around his buttons pulled tight into triangles of tension.  A fat stocky man undressing whilst running, saving some dollop of cream in the river turned out for you anyway – a comical affair. But you were not the only one that found the scene unfolding comical. There was a man in the bridge too. A tall man but of meagre build. He wore threadbare clothes and had a general miserly appearance about him. He laughed sardonically with a hiss from his a broken tooth. You both noticed each others sense of humour, caught eye, then shuffled away in both directions, embarrassed.

Champagne goes straight to my head. Well if you’re like me and immolate every meal in half an hour and have to constantly eat throughout the day then -yes- champagne on an empty stomach is asking for trouble. CO2 from the carbonation forces open your pyloric sphincter so you get a gut-full of alcohol. Not to mention the CO2 helps surcharge the assimilation into the blood stream. Ooooeeeee!!!

Taittinger Brut NV Champagne France RRP $100 AUD

‘Deep straw in colour on the nose wafts of lime with a certain flintyness. Brioche and general stocking of baked goods in there too. The complexity of the wine, is not overshadowed by the racy acidity, though it is in its own right quite tart. Layered over the palate, the mousse is fine, withfinesse of notable length. Two outstanding points to note. Fine mousse. Balance of fruit characters with aged complexity.’

So you have an assignment due on Friday, a 20 percenter (1000-1200 words) in Writing for Popular Mags. Attempt one, which I shall call Version 1.0, a measly 2 lines, lies in my other window collecting e-dust as I try to entertain my caffeinated thoughts. Maybe this is a good little mental warm-up, you know like stretching before tackling that rock-climbing wall or bouldering problem (Yes -I know Devil’s Advocate I haven’t climbed in a while - but I still think I’ll whop your ass!).

Limber your thoughts before creating your next masterpiece?

LOL.

Getting those neural pathways firing in all directions so you can only discover that ‘it’s about time to vacuum your room, dust and do the rest of the things that you didn’t find the time for over the weekend,’ but because you have an assignment lording over you, now is better time than any. My mental browser tracks between the aforementioned assignment, boring-ass work this arvo and Her. I like the frenetic pace of my tangled thoughts, ‘twisted reasons that strange my mind like liquorice laces.’

Perhaps I like the pressure. Diamonds after all, are created by such.

So you’re on a ‘less-than-20 grams -of-fat-per-day-diet’ for about 2 months now. You have made good progress. Lost about 3-4% body fat percentage (bfp) bringing it down to about 10%. Single diget bfp is six or eight pack material. And it’s fucking hard. It means you run every other day (about 12km in 40min) and work out in the gym in between those other days so you spend about 7 -8 hrs in the gym per week.

NO DAYS OFF

You’re going well eating pretty much hummus, canned tuna and ‘weight watchers’ wraps which provide a reasonable base of carbs-protein-fat ratio. Then your brother and housemate come home with the new abomination Hungry Jack’s has concocted. Four patties of greasy beef in between four slices of plastic cheese with two strips of fried bacon. The smell was that unmistakeable HJ’s flame grilled beef, crisp bacon and salty chips- It was making me salivate; I was preparing my usual daily meal and I was so tempted to just take a bite, or steal just one chip off the plate, but I’m proud to say that I didn’t. And boy was it hard.

Taken from  here  the quadburger contains 4518 kilojoules, or 1080 calories, and 71g of fat. What on earth does that mean? Well the average male functions on about 8000 kilojoules (less if you are female) per day meaning if you down one of these babies you are pretty much half of your daily energy requirements. 71g of fat… most people eat about 100g in a day (I wonder how much of that is saturated?). Having not touched fast food in about 5 years I often snigger inside when I see fatties in line at HJ’s or Maccas. Surely they must realise what they are eating is probably going to kill them. Cigarettes by law have to contain warnings, there is no reason why something as hideous as this should be exempt.

I was so grossed out that burger that I just had to share it with the rest of the world- oh yeah- and my equally gross looking healthy food. And I heard from my housemate and my bro that it was awesomely tasteless. I was later told that they felt sick and depressed from eating that with large fries and half a litre of coke.

hurm wonder why…bring on the single digets…

This is probably the first diary-blog-cathartic posting I have ever made.

Why?

Possibly because I just need to vent some emotional frustration from student-work life.

OK. I meet this girl street projecting. Pretty much a dark alley on a winters night. I’m instantly taken by her eyes. We exchange only glances- she leaves before I could meet her properly.

I track her down over fb via the street projections group. We talk over fb/ msn and go on a few dates. She is awesome. The deadly combo of brains, personality all summed up in a beautiful package. She could be a model. I’m falling for her badly.

The only catch.

Her parents globe trot frequently. The usual you know: summer in the Caymans, Christmas in Denver and soap shopping in the south of France. She’ll disappear for 6 months of the year travelling horizons I only dream to see. And she leaves in November, won’t be back till April/May. That’s a long time for young love- an entire Perth summer with out her… but then again Perth is a boring place.

I’m in a way torn and don’t know what  to do. But I can’t bring myself to call it a quits and she doesn’t want to either… either way I think it’s going to be a long hot summer…