The last day of September is upon us. Less than three months until Christmas. I spent most of the weekend in bed trying to lay low…lower than my sinus infection, but to know real benefit. The headache continues and I can’t seem to get any relief from it. It is now becoming my big project in life…to get well. Watched “Shipping News” yesterday on DVD. What a great film! I absolutely loved it and now regret not having seen it when it was in the theatres. Kevin Spacey…unnerving. Judy Dench…amazing. I don’t know how they do it. Their performances are so natural, you never see these actors “acting”. Go rent it if you haven’t seen it yet.
Off to see the doctor again, and let me say that these visits are doing nothing to endear the entire field of medicine to me. I keep wondering when I will feel better, or when my doctor will actually understand what is wrong with me. "It's all in your head Mark. We will have to amputate it once and for all!"
Rob, I am sorry I didn’t give you a call on the weekend; I was just so under the weather that even talking was a monumental effort. I am hoping that eventually, whatever it is that I have, will be cured. Help!
So, the day begins…at tiredofthisfuckingsinusheadache.com.
Can’t seem to get warm again. Maybe my body is beginning to rot. I knew I should have gone through with the embalming. The sinus condition that my doctor was unable to successfully diagnose or treat is still in the exact same condition it was last week and the week before. I am frustrated. I suppose I will have to book yet another appointment with him, but it occurs to me that I might be better off looking for a new doctor, one that can make a diagnosis and then treat it successfully. Interesting idea…but I live in Canada and I am wondering now if that is possible here in this country. I rented a couple of movies on DVD yesterday out of sheer irritation. I let myself lie in bed for a good chunk of yesterday, hoping that the inactivity would make my headache leave, but this pain is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered; it just sits there in the middle of my face, at the bridge of my nose and under my eyes refusing to move or change. What gives?
I watched the first movie, “The Majestic”. It’s a film that got mixed reviews when it was released, yet I rather liked it, and felt that Jim Carry gave a moving and subtle performance. I remember that some of the complaints about the movie were that it was overly sappy… but then, aren’t we living in a decidedly unemotional era, an era that may well be remembered for it’s allergy towards most of the softer human emotions. Perhaps we need to make room in our hearts for sappy, if only to save our souls from the coolness of technology and all that cool cutting edge crap that is floating all around us.
The second movie “Shipping News” I have yet to watch, but I heard good things about it at the time of its release and had wanted to see it when it was in the theatres. Oh well, guess I’ll see it now.
I hope everyone is having a nice weekend. See ya Monday.
Posted by thatmark at September 29, 2002 08:42 AM
Sorry about the delay this morning. We are short a few people at the office these past few days so it has become more difficult for me to juggle all the wonderful things on my to-do list. Eberhard and I had a rather enjoyable time this morning, putting a shipment of wheel weights into stock. I have a glamorous life, don’t you kid yourself. The symphony was wonderful last night, but of course we wound up rushing to everything. First I got stuck in traffic heading downtown, which means I was late meeting Stephen at his office. We had dinner at a nice restaurant around the corner from his work…can’t remember the name of it now, but I had a wonderful grilled chicken entrée, which miraculously did not make me run to the bathroom.
From the restaurant we hopped into the car and drove up Mt. Pleasant, which was anything but. Traffic was as thick as poop from King St. all the way up to the Toronto Centre for the Arts. We arrived two minutes before the concert started, at which point a nice little old lady was sitting in one of our seats. In what exact seat she really belonged is anyone’s guess. Stephen “kindly” asked her to relinquish the seat, at which point she muttered defeatedly under her breath, “but where shall I sit now?”
We later saw her during intermission walking about aimlessly, wearing an expression on her face which could only be described as a cross between confusion and determination. Her expression seemed to say, “I know I came here with someone but I don’t really remember exactly who that person was now.” I have been there myself, so I know about this.
The program began with the overture to Fidelio, conducted by Kerry Stratton; that was fun. Then the orchestra played a new piece by Robert Ian Winstin, an American born writer, entitled September 11th, 2001 9:05am, which I felt captured the feelings of that horrific day rather deftly, if not a few weeks late.
After 9/11 there was a ghastly piece by Alexander Brott, a German Canadian composer, who’s piece was supposedly based on a canon by Beethoven, and was entitled “Paraphrase in Polyphony”, which only left me wondering why anyone would want to do such a thing in the first place. I must give him credit though, because he certainly managed to accomplish his aim. There seemed to be more notes played in five minutes than in the entire Beethoven repertoire, which I might add is not an easy thing to accomplish. It was not only paraphrased, it was also thoroughly, rephrased, reworded, interpreted, translated, restated, and summarized beyond an inch of its life. Let’s face it; there is just no way to please everyone, especially me, even after trying absolutely every God forsaken note under the sun. “Paraphrase in Polyphony” managed to begin, extended, and then entirely eradicate any further curiosity on the matter of polyphony once and for all; and don’t we feel so much more at ease because of it?
After intermission, which I might add consisted mainly of one Chocolate Haagen-Dazs ice cream bar, and Stephen getting cruised by one particularly strange, yet somewhat famous PR man, whom we need not mention by name; suffice to say that this elderly gentleman wore cosmetic cover up foundation and a stark red jacket, which made, not seeing him virtually impossible. Anyone who’s anyone knows who I am talking about so let’s just leave it at that. The poor man (used loosely here) seemed utterly forlorn…but in a good way. Really.
Finally we arrive at the entire reason for being here in the first place: Beethoven’s 9th Symphony. What can I possible say to you if you don’t already know what I am going to say? If you ever get a chance to hear it performed live, just do it. This is simply the purest of music on earth and the scope of the “Ode to Joy” can only be described as breathtaking. Translated into modern day English, “Ode to Joy” actually means “Get a Life”, which is exactly what you will have after listening to and experiencing Ludwig von Beethoven’s 9th. Apparently it will not automatically give you good fashion sense, or make you realize the futility of dying your hair to match your red jacket, as the previously mentioned PR man, person, whatever, demonstrated rather spectacularly.
So the day begins…or rather is half over, either way it works if you work it. Now go tell two friends for shits and giggles that I am the funniest bitchy person in the universe.
Is there such a thing as healthcare in Canada…because I have my doubts? I’m beginning to think that my dog is getting better healthcare than I am…which leads me to believe that perhaps I should fire my doctor and go to Willi’s vet. When Willi has tests done, his vet calls me to tell me the results. When I have an x-ray of my face, I have to call my doctor’s office to get the results. Turns out the x-ray came back normal. Once again I am bathed in relief since now I know it’s all in my head even though the pain is in my face. Maybe they need to amputate. No seriously…don’t get sick in Canada. We have universal healthcare…universally shitty for everyone.
So the idea…go see your doctor when you have symptoms, is increasingly becoming an exercise in futility. I’ve been to see my doctor twice now and know even less than I did two weeks ago, and I still have this headache in my face. Well at least I know that I don’t have anything lethal. Maybe.
Willi is still not doing very well. His vet gave him antibiotics for his skin. As it turns out he doesn’t tolerate the medication and could not keep down any food yesterday. Maybe I should try Willi’s antibiotic.
On a brighter note, Stephen and I are going to the symphony this evening; Beethoven’s 9th. This day actually feels more like the 5th symphony so far hopefully I can switch gears before this evening.
So, the day has already begun…
Decaf is good. I love coffee, but the real thing makes me a bit…tense; and unable to sleep. And sleep is good. We need a good deal of good sleeping. So, no real coffee. Went to see my doctor again about the sinus thing. For whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to think that it’s an infection. “That antibiotic would have killed it. That thing kills anything in its path.” Great, will it kill the patient also? I just love doctors. So he says, “I need to have your get an x-ray of you face.” Great! This is bathing me in relief.
So I go across the street to the clinic to be photographed from the inside out. The radiologist tells me to lean my face against this white board contraption while she shoots lethal doses of radiation through my head. It amazes me that we are nothing but empty space, that radiation can pass right through us with very little obstruction. Things are never as solid as they appear to be. Too bad other people’s bullshit didn’t pass right through me in the same effortless manner. It tends to get stuck in my head, heart and stomach. I wonder if they can see that on the x-ray.
“Now open your mouth as wide as you can, and stand perfectly still.” OK. Off she scoots to take her photo from behind the protective barrier. Zaaaap! “Just one more from the side now.” Weeeee, what fun! ZZZZZZaaaaap! I’ve had photo shoots before but nothing like this one. Talk about nude photos; these are “ubernudes”…these are photos of the inside of my head. Hmmm, wonder what they will find in there; Jimmy Hoffa? You never know.
I think the antibiotics failed; but what the heck do I know. He thinks it could be a polyp. Great! What is a polyp? I say, “I doubt it.” But hey…he’s the doctor so he should know what he’s talking about. Wait and see. I would like to get rid of this headache please.
So, now that I can see my own imminent death looming on the horizon, the day begins…as me being a drama queen. Hello! Some people would say, "What else is new."
Decaf is good. I love coffee, but the real thing makes me a bit…tense; and unable to sleep. And sleep is good. We need a good deal of good sleeping. So, no real coffee. Went to see my doctor again about the sinus thing. For whatever reason, he doesn’t seem to think that it’s an infection. “That antibiotic would have killed it. That thing kills anything in its path.” Great, will it kill the patient also? I just love doctors. So he says, “I need to have your get an x-ray of you face.” Great! This is bathing me in relief.
So I go across the street to the clinic to be photographed from the inside out. The radiologist tells me to lean my face against this white board contraption while she shoots lethal doses of radiation through my head. It amazes me that we are nothing but empty space, that radiation can pass right through us with very little obstruction. Things are never as solid as they appear to be. Too bad other people’s bullshit didn’t pass right through me in the same effortless manner. It tends to get stuck in my head, heart and stomach. I wonder if they can see that on the x-ray.
“Now open your mouth as wide as you can, and stand perfectly still.” OK. Off she scoots to take her photo from behind the protective barrier. Zaaaap! “Just one more from the side now.” Weeeee, what fun! ZZZZZZaaaaap! I’ve had photo shoots before but nothing like this one. Talk about nude photos; these are “ubernudes”…these are photos of the inside of my head. Hmmm, wonder what they will find in there; Jimmy Hoffa? You never know.
I think the antibiotics failed; but what the heck do I know. He thinks it could be a polyp. Great! What is a polyp? I say, “I doubt it.” But hey…he’s the doctor so he should know what he’s talking about. Wait and see. I would like to get rid of this headache please.
So, now that I can see my own imminent death looming on the horizon, the day begins…as me being a drama queen. Hello! Some people would say, "What else is new."
Up bright and early this morning…or should I say dark and early, given the fact that it’s still darker than a black hole in February. What? Went to sleep early, but couldn’t stay asleep. I had this strange dream: In the dream I have moved to a different house on the same street. Suddenly it dawns on me that I neglected to move a lot of my things out of the basement of my old house and now there are new people living in it. How will I get my things out of my old house? Well…that could be a problem, but surely the people who have moved in want me to move my stuff out. What did I leave behind anyway? Oh…let’s see… my journals, my home movies, my recording equipment…um…all the most important stuff! Yikes!
It was one of those dreams where you wake up thinking, well, this has obviously happened; how will I fix this? How will I get my stuff out of that house now that I don’t live there anymore? It took me about fifteen minutes of staring at the ceiling, pondering the future of all my “lost” things, before I was able to realize that I was indeed still living in the same house and my things were all still here.
I’ve accomplished all these “things” by 5:00am.
In an effort to breathe some life back into my singing voice, which I’ve neglected for quite some time now, I’ve started doing a few vocal warm-ups in the car while driving to work. If you see me driving by and I look like I am singing at the top of my lungs…well, now you at least know what is going on. Since I am not teaching or recording much at this time I don’t have the same urgency or opportunity to keep my voice in shape, so when I try to sing…well…it’s just not what it once was.
Talent is only partly something you are born with…the rest of it is just plain old hard work. Don’t use it….lose it. My desire to sing has always been stronger than my ability to actually do it, so it’s something I constantly need to work on. I was not one of those singers that had a relatively free voice to start with. I had to learn whatever freedom I attained the hard way; studying. And it’s still true for me to this day. When I don’t sing often and well…guess what happens...It goes away. Singing has always been a challenge for me, but I still love it more than anything in the world. Why is it that we are so often drawn to things that remain always, just ever so slightly, out of our reach? Do we love the challenge or the thing itself…or both? God knows I have fallen in love with the occasional unavailable challenge and loved it.
Idiot!
Why should it be any different when it comes to my main passions in life?
I guess on the day I die I will be thinking about what shape my voice is in. Well...maybe not.
So, nothing stupid has happened yet to set me off. The sinus thing seems to be under control but it's still lurking. Maybe another round of Antibiotics? Back to see my doctor then.
Willi is still scratching, so yesterday I took him to his vet for the second time with this problem and she prescribed some antibiotics for him. He could have an infection and that might be causing his skin problems. It could also be an allergy to his shampoo or any number of things.
So, I think that’s it for now…Don’t forget to tell two friends about thatmark.com just for shits and giggles.
The day begins…doesn’t it?
Posted by thatmark at September 24, 2002 05:58 AM
This place is a dump! The showerhead in the blue bathroom decided it had better things to do. Boom, down it fell! It’s officially fall now. The next thing to fall was Stephen’s laptop. He perched it up against a chair on the dining room table where I write my morning pages. Boom down it fell. It’s fall! Does it still work? It boots…But does it still work? The sinus headache is back, or should I say never completely left yet. My idea of a good time is to wake up with a throbbing headache each morning for six weeks. I am so happy. And the antibiotics that were designed to kill this puppy are over today. Weeeeee!I love doctors…I love everything and everyone!
To say that I am cranky would entirely miss the point. I am sublimely miserable. But you have to laugh at it really, because what else can you do. I haven’t tried blowing sugar up my own ass yet, but how far down the line could that little maneuver be? If only I could bitchslap myself, I would surely be in much better shape.
Almost threw in the towel on writing morning pages this morning…the “voice” almost won, but sheer force of habit overtook me and I completed three pages of absolutely anything. It all started out so polite, but by the third page I could not ignore the facts…misery showed up quite honestly and certainly on the third page. The laptop falling to the floor put me over the edge. Pull yourself together Mark, cut yourself some slack. Blah, blah, blah, blah.
Two days in a row where the day beings with a hole in it. How ungrateful can a person get? Just shoot me! If you think this entry is pissy…you should have read yesterday’s; only yesterday I still had my wits about me and didn’t publish it, but I think I will let this one go. Perhaps for those of you who hate Mondays… this might just strike a chord. Besides, I can’t always be so goddamned pleasant around here!
So the day begins…but why?
I finally cut the lawn last night when I came home from the office. For some inexplicable reason I was fully energized. Late Friday afternoon…fully energized…what did I eat for lunch? I should eat that from now on, whatever it was. I think it was a Chicken Caesar salad. OK. It rained last night. What a relief. Also thunder and lightning…very nice. I like it when the weather acts up and shakes things loose. Not so much that trees start snapping or houses start floating down the Humber River, but I like it when it storms. And it has been drier than a piece of cow dung frying in the sun for the past few months. Hopefully the heat will break soon. I can’t wait for the cooler, crisp days of October.
I picked up Willi from the Big House last night. He seemed happy to see me but at the same time was quite comfortable about the idea of remaining on vacation at the Big House. My mom loves Willi, and since both their favorite forms of exercise is walking, they of course have a natural alliance going on. Willi keeps my mom company; in exchange, he gets to have his way most of the time. He can be quite bossy. He just stares at her with those intense black eyes, lets out a few sighs of frustration, and boom…instant gratification. Life is good. It’s a dog’s life after all. Amen.
Yvette looks amazing…she continues to shed those unwanted pounds using the Atkins Diet. I think it’s a total of forty-eight pounds from her highest weight. You go girl! Keep shocking the mall crowd! I love to see people succeeding at their most difficult goals; it’s so inspiring, and it’s proof that people can and do initiate difficult changes in their lives.
Maybe I’ll go see a movie. Does anyone have any suggestions? I haven’t a clue as to what is playing these days. Yicks!
So the day begins well…
Willi has been on vacation all week. We miss the dog. My mother tells me he’s scratching with his hide legs again. It must be an allergy. West Highland Terriers are prone to skin problems but we have been lucky up until now. I think the summer was just too hot and dusty for him. He’s not alone. Yesterday was hot. I mean HOT. It’s practically winter…what is going on here people? Is it Global warming? “I’m melting…melting!”
Still haven’t cut the front lawn. I want it to snow.
I need some more decaf before I can go on.
Still haven’t cut the front lawn. I want it to snow.
I need some more decaf before I can go on.
Did anyone watch Will & Grace last night? The finale episode from last season was repeated last night. Jack’s dream sequence with Cher was priceless. Also the part where Grace runs head on into a lamppost was hysterically funny…wonderful slapstick. I don’t know about the whole having a baby thing though…it just doesn’t happen that way…right? Does anyone know what I am talking about?
The Sopranos season began last week. That’s interesting. It’s like watching a car accident; you can’t turn away once you start watching it, even though it’s rather, you know, alarming. Thank God for HBO.
I feel a bit sluggish this morning. This week has been rather strange. Yesterday I worked in the stockroom at Chemco…always a delightful thing…I do love working with you Eberhard...you are a kind and gentle soul and thanks for reading the site from time to time. My dad knew good people and we are lucky to have inherited them in our family business. Also Harry, thanks for you common sense and straight shooting, you remind me that there are real people in the world, who have real down to earth lives. Not everyone is a goddamned artist. Truly.
Yvette and I had fun time last night. We went to an opening at the McMichael Gallery out in the village of Kleinburg. The Gallery is featuring the works of a Joe Norris, a folk artist from Nova Scotia. I believe this shindig goes until November 10th 2002. Anyone interested in Canadian folk art might want to check this out. Joe Norris’ painting will certainly cheer you up. l
They certainly cheered us up…and god knows we needed it after this past week.
You can clearly see that my life is every so full of frolicking mayhem, whatever the heck on earth that means.
So the day begins…and we should be grateful for that…at the very least.
Cold hands this morning. The temperature in the house is 64 degrees. Why so cold? Turn on the heat. Ok. The outside temperature must have dropped overnight. God, can’t I make up my mind? One day I can hardly wait for the cold…the next I am complaining about it. Last night Stephen and I had dinner at Oliver’s, a rather nice restaurant in Oakville, to celebrate our 5th anniversary. Five years…how the heck does that happen? In a blink of an eye…that’s how. Life has a way of being over so quickly. It’s shrinking constantly. That’s just the way it is. As human beings we get to contemplate our time running out. Despite all this we had a nice time. The food was wonderful as always, yet both of us are amazed at the number. Five years…ha? What? That’s half a decade. What is that in gay years? No way of knowing or measuring.
Yesterday, while in a bookstore I noticed that the new organizers are in stock now. They shout with urgency from their respective shelves; 2003! Get away from me!
Now my nose is cold. And the grass that was so parched on my front lawn has suddenly sprung back to life. It really needs to be cut. When? I don’t know…on the weekend.
Unfortunately I am feeling pressed for time, (or is it depressed by time?) and although it’s my inclination to write on, I need to get my day underway…and face the music…as flat and as off key as it now seems to me. Face it.
What’s the saying about cold hands? Break a leg; the day begins.
Yesterday I noticed that the leaves are beginning to fall from the trees. This does something to me on a physical level. A warm shiver goes through my body when I see them falling. The long summer has finally worn them out. In an instant they come to the end and detach from their place on the tree. They only fall once. In a matter of seconds it is all over. Having spent all summer in the sun, in the wind, and in the rain they do this one last thing. For now many leaves are still hanging in there…but what about these early ones? Did they simply just have enough of it all? Or were they curious about what it would be like to be free? Or were they just tired of holding on to the branch and decided to speed up the inevitable. Of course falling leaves don’t think…or do they?
Personally, I am ready for a change in seasons. I am welcoming it. I am ready to fall from summer. Still, there is a bittersweet sadness that one has to embrace to be able to fall into fall. Is it a warm shiver…or is it actually, ever so slightly the sensation of falling?
Yes,I think so.
Stephen, I wish you luck today! Drive safely. Happy Anniversary!
So, the day begins well!
I ran yesterday morning. Not for long, but I ran. Everything is painful. Everything is heavy. Oh the life of a depressive. Kill yourself. Why bother, life will do it for you if you just hang in there long enough.
This morning as I awoke I noticed, as I do each morning that it has definitely become more difficult for me to see the digits on the digital clock on the VCR at the foot of the bed. I generally have good vision, but after sleeping for a while my eyes are out of focus. To focus them is a challenge at first. They seem to need a warm up period, say three minutes or so and then they are almost as good as new…almost.
I wear reading glasses now and I have noticed that reading without them has become more challenging. I must have been dyslexic my entire life and I didn’t even know it until my eye sight decided that it was finally time to deteriorate. Hey, I can see distances well…still.
Life begins at forty, or at least a new version of life seems to. We get more serious about things. This, if you haven’t notice yet, is not a rehearsal. This is it, or rather that was a lot of it already, and did ya happen to notice how fast that went by? Ya. Well, fasten your seat belts, because if you think that was fast…here comes sixty five.
The other day I was surfing the television with the remote and paused on one of those wild animal documentaries. Whatever happened to Walt Disney’s happy version of nature? Now it’s all brutal…see the lion…see the lion run…see the lion kill helpless doelike creature that never had a chance. See how brutal? Now flip the channel because this is too brutal. See little helpless mammal…see crocodile approaching…see crocodile grab cute, helpless mammal in its jaws and chomp until almost dead. Now for the thirty second piranha fish finale where cute, bloody, helpless creature is devoured to the bone. Nature is so wholesome.
You shouldn’t eat that, it’s not natural. You want nature? In nature you could definitely be a fast-food dinner for a school of piranha fish, thank you so much! If it’s absolutely imperative that I should be in a jungle, please let it be a manmade one…say New York City.
And Speaking of New York City, I am having lunch with my mother at the Hothouse. This is the first time I have had a chance to talk to my mother about our recent trip to New York City. I am forever trying to convince my her that New York is the only place on earth that really matters. She doesn’t understand my enthusiasm for the place. Still I am rather relentless in trying to convince her. She lived there with my father for two years, 1956-1958, but both were ready to leave after two years. Up until now, nothing strange…just me loving New York out loud, but then nature can never leave well enough alone can it? From the restaurant sound system comes the following words out of Frank Sinatra’s mouth:
Start spreading the news
I’m leaving today
I’m gonna make a brand new start of it
In old New York
I wanna wake in the city that doesn’t sleep…
“Do you hear that Mother?”, I say pointing to speaker on the ceiling above us. This happens to me all the time. Synchronicities. My mother looks at me like, ya, what’s the big deal? Am I the only one who gets it? Frank is singing “New York, New York” and I’ve just been talking about it for ten minutes. It’s the universe sending me a signal. Doesn’t anyone else get it?
So, a new day begins...
Oh sweet Jesus, when will this sinus headache of mine take a flying leap. Three days of antibiotics and still my face and head ache. Now my nose feels congested as well. How is a person supposed to be able to function optimistically with chronic pain? I am depressed. No doubt about it. I will just have to try to keep my aching head up.
I never thought I would see the day when I would be glad to look out the window and see an overcast sky, but that day has come. We have had nothing but scorching sunshine for what seems like weeks now. The grass in the neighborhood is parched within an inch of it’s little yellow life. I have never seen it like this. Apparently this was one of the hottest summers on record; well I can certainly vouch for that. I have lived in this neighborhood since I was three years old but I don’t ever recall having seen the lawns so yellow. The grass is so dry it makes crispy noises as you walk on it.
And so the day begins...
As I sit in my front bedroom office, I am surrounded by computers and audio equipment. This is a small space containing immensely powerful tools for creativity. The one tool that is missing is time. When my father passed away from bladder cancer almost two years ago, my brother and I stepped into the family business to keep things moving along as usual. Both of us interrupted our career paths in midstream to step in and make sure that his life’s work continued on. It has not always been an easy thing to do. At the same time we lost our father we inherited his life.
In each drawer, in each file was my father’s signature on something…less so now, as our own signatures are filling up the drawers. I must have signed my name at least ten thousand times in the past twenty four months. My hand is sore from that one activity alone.
But the part of me that aches the most is my musicality. Running a business often feels the other way around, like it’s running me. And it feels as if it has run my musicality out of town. Yesterday I sat down and made a schedule, one in which I attempted to place everything in it that I need to do. Yicks! A week is a ridiculously short thing. Once I had completed this somewhat daunting activity, I realized that it would be the end of me if I actually followed through with it. I need to get real. There are only sixteen good and useful hours in a day…and that ain’t much. Not if you are trying to have two careers at once.
Something’s got to give… but what?
All this leaves me asking…what are we here for? It seems to me that in my father’s life, a person works to eat and sleep, so that he can work, so that he can eat and sleep, so that he can work…around and around it goes. I must be missing something from the experience. At the end of the year you hopefully show a profit so that you can continue the above routine. All the employees do the same. They live…when? On the weekends? Forgive me, but my artistic temperament says…hmmm, is that all there is? Please, weekends? As it turns out, weekends are for laundry.
Well, the thing that confuses me the most is that people on this routine seem to enjoy aspects of it. I am definitely missing something. When it comes to the nine to five life…I’m sorry, but I don’t get it. I do realize that I am the one that is out of line here, but then lines never did attract me as much as the empty spaces that they define. The line is not the thing for me…it’s the stuff on the both sides of the line that have always held my interest. More difficult to see, but more substantial once brought into view.
The sky is heavy with gray clouds and humidity this morning, and I must go and face it. Get the show on the road…or rather; get the road on the show as my father might have said. Certainly, somewhere along the line, I took him literally.
For those of us who are superstitious…this is as good as it gets. Holy cow, Friday the 13th is upon us. Looking out my window it seems like a perfectly good day; clear sky, moderate temperature, things are alright…be careful. I am going to steer away from politics and current affairs today. I need to be cheered up after the past few days. Besides, I need to put the “that” back into the “mark”. Still, I can’t pretend that this week hasn’t been hard on my nerves…it has. And the sinus thing that I can’t shake has been slowly driving me around the bend.
Yesterday I went to see Dr. Barrie, my family doctor, for a wee prescription; some antibiotics to dislodge whatever it is that has taken hold of my head and face. I hope it works. I am getting desperate now for a cure. Speaking of cures…Beate, my second cousin who lives in Germany, is having a hell of a time: Appendicitis, among other complications. You are in my thoughts; I wish you a speedy recovery Beate!
There are raccoons running across my roof. They make quite a noise on their merry way. It seems that I hear them daily. They better be only on the roof and not living in it.
In the middle of the night, a few days ago, they woke me up from a sound sleep with their joyous rumpus. I decided to investigate, to see with my own eyes what mayhem they were up to. Sure enough, as I went out the back sliding door and looked up on the roof, there were four, dark, shiny eyes staring back at me with complete stillness. They didn’t move or breathe but stared right into my eyes from the edge of the roof. Those little buggers!
Soon Willi had picked up their scent and was going ballistic all over the backyard to find them. His vision is not nearly as good as his sense of smell, so I picked him up and point him in their direction so he can have a better view, but he could not see them; firstly because it was so dark, and secondly because they were so darn still. But he could smell them and it was beginning to drive him nuts. He dashed around the backyard frantically, barking and sniffing as he went. He could be so earnest in his pursuits that it amused me somewhat: Such single-mindedness…I wish I could possess such a sense of purpose.
After all this fuss and commotion, I decided that we should call it a night…again. “Willi, come in the house! It’s over.” Back to bed we went.
I just had four good sneezes. It’s over. Is it?
Well, I’ve gotten through this without making it heavy. It has been heavy for several days now and I am just about done with heavy. Still, be careful out there today…it is Friday the 13th, so be on the lookout for all kinds of mayhem and madness. Does anyone know if there is a fulll moon? Please almighty…no full moon.
So, the day beings with a ray of hope mixed with caution.
Yesterday was difficult. I spent a good part of the day watching the one year anniversary of 9/11 on television. I found the reading of the victims names at Ground Zero deeply moving and entirely disturbing. It took more than two hours to read the 2801 names of the people who had lost their lives at the World Trade Center one year ago. Each name represented a human life lost and countless family members and friends that were devastated. There were of course services in Washington and Pennsylvania but it was the sight of the families of the victims at Ground Zero walking down the long ramp into the pit that I found to be especially moving. Having been to the pit in person in August, and now to watch on television as thousands of people descended into it, laying flowers in remembrance of their loved ones at the very site of the catastrophe, was almost too much to bear. Late in the day President Bush and his wife came to Ground Zero and spent time shaking hands and meeting the survivors at the footprint of the North Tower. Again I could not help but tear up at the sight of this. The care with which President Bush greeted and spoke with, and sometimes even hugged and kissed each person in the crowd, astounded me. Even the CNN commentators were moved and could not contain their feelings, as their voices noticeably soften as they spoke about what they were witnessing.
Today is a new day, and hopefully we can all move forward now. Anniversaries are difficult, especially the first one. Some people choose to deal with anniversaries of tragedies by walling themselves off from further exposure or reflection of the matter, while others need to revisit the spot, need to take another good look, need to come together with others and actively acknowledge their communal suffering. I am definitely in the later group, but each person needs to honor their own unique way of healing. For some, the images are just too much to take. I can understand that.
Speaking of healing…I have finally had it with this damn darn sinus infection and have made an appointment to see my doctor today at 12:30pm to get the “good stuff”. Bring on the drugs…I can’t stand it anymore. Be gone damn sinus headache!
So, from the larger picture to the personal one, the day beings…
It would be so easy for me to skip my writing task this morning. I really just want to remember 9/11 and watch the television, and listen to what is going on in New York City this morning. My head and heart ache. So much suffering in the world. If anyone is looking for me, I will be at home glued to the tube until the ceremonies are over. So, the day beings…again.
The 9/11 television retrospectives and documentaries are coming fast and furious. All the images of the towers toppling are all coming back…are all around us and in us. Time has done nothing to soften the blows. It is all still so close to the surface. A year has done little to heal this outrage. In some ways the images are even more distressing and unreal after not having seen them in a while. I was in New York in August and I stood at the site, and I still cannot comprehend it. It does not sink in. In my minds eye, those buildings are still standing there. Let us all go easy on ourselves during this week. This is a difficult time. Even if we think we are past it, we cannot help but be traumatized by it again. We are simply not past it yet. The human soul is injured, and the sights and sounds of the season will bring it all back. Be aware. More than we realize, this is a haunted time of year now. Be aware…think twice, think three times. The terror is still there, and it has an influence on all of us. Don’t be fooled, anniversaries are real and significant.
I have nothing else to say, except that…
The day beings…
My hands are always cold in the mornings. I’ve been thinking about wearing gloves but then how would I type. Poor circulation at my age? Hmmm. What gives?
Had to take the weekend off writing. There was work to do in the studio, and then Sunday I decided that I would take off entirely just like millions of other people do. On Saturday I wrestled with computer technology in my studio…music software hell. This stuff has such an allure. It promises the world, but first you must jump through a series of endless loops and hoops to get things to work, and then it’s possible that it never works perfectly. You would think that the software companies would have gotten all the glitches out of all this stuff by now…but nope. All a person has to do is read the newsgroups pertaining to certain types of software to witness all the confusion and struggle going on with music and video software. It’s bad.
How did the world get by before without computers? I think we had more fun then. At least I remember weekends and trips to the country…and vacations. Maybe it's just me but are we spending more and more time in front of computers to the exclusion of real life?
But then there are the big picture issues.
The anniversary of September 11th is making me contemplate all my dead people. Sorry if this sounds depressing, but this is just a fact of life. I have lost all my grandparents, my father, several great aunts and uncles, I have been widowed once, I have lost my dearest friend, and several other friends who were all around my age. I have lost my dear sweet Springer spaniel, Sam. I have friends who knew people who died in 911 and who live in walking distance of the tragedy.
I am a survivor…but not because of some inner fortitude I’m afraid. It has been pure luck. There’s that old saying,”What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” or as I prefer to say, “What doesn’t kill you makes you look really, really bad!” I think both are true.
My heart goes out to those of you who have lost loved ones this year, especially to those who have lost someone struck down in the prime of their lives. My heart aches in sympathy with you. I know what it’s like to be blind to death only to have it run through your life like an unfathomable, unending nightmare. The first time it happens, you think you will surely die; the pain and grief are unbearable. The first big blow is the worst. It’s heartbreaking when we lose a cherished family member, dear friend or pet. Our souls weep and moan at the blow. And each death brings us closer to our own mortality. When someone close to us dies, a part of us dies right along with that person.
September 11th was like a death in our collective family. It was also the death of our illusions of homeland safety. These things only happen over there…wherever that is. Not any more. Obviously, these things happen here as well. These deaths can happen in the greatest city on earth, to happy, productive people in their prime. September 11th is a wound that deeply penetrates all our hearts and minds. One year later the wound has scarcely healed; it all comes back too easily.
The terrorists may not have won, but they have killed thousands, maimed thousands, and terrorized millions. And they have woken up a giant super power that is not interested in appeasement. Perhaps the attack on the World Trade Center has saved millions of lives from much worse. Remember Hitler; the allies let him build up Germany’s army, and let him grow and move into surrounding countries like Austria and Czechoslovakia without stopping him. The Americans are aware of this terrible error, and hopefully will not let the world make the same mistake with Saddam Hussein, or any other dictator or leadership that is building up arsenals of mass destruction, and biological warfare. You can bet your sweet dollar that Saddam’s days are numbered.
We may be rapidly approaching the one year anniversary of 911 but this little party has just begun.
So, the day beings…let us not forget our dead, we are all they have left.
Has anyone noticed that Toronto rush hour has gotten to be a ridiculous exercise in futility? Who wants to drive in this city anymore? It hurts. The Gardner Expressway…well what is so express about it? Not a damn darn thing. At rush hour it resembles a parking lot. So when does it become an expressway? When no one is driving on it? Hmmm. Sinus headache continues…only now I’ve medicated it with painkillers…didn’t Elizabeth Taylor use pain killers? How many times was she married? Enough times…Hello!
Be serious.
The anniversary of September 11th is quickly approaching. What a day that was. I don’t think any one of us is likely to forget it as long as we live.
During our trip to New York in August, Stephen and I took a drive down to Ground Zero to pay our respects to those who were murdered that day and to have a first hand look at the site. Looking into the pit where the world Trade Center once stood brought back so many personal memories.
There were my first memories of the towers in 1971 during a summer trip to New York with my father and my cousin Hansy. Then in 1986, I had dinner with my cousin Johanna at the Windows on the World during one of my happiest trips to New York. What a wonderful time we had sharing a wonderful meal with such a spectacular view of the New York harbor and the statue of Liberty. Then there were numerous trips up the towers over the years.
To look at Ground Zero is to stare directly into a void that was created by human evil. It can be experienced but never fully comprehended.
There is a strange respectful murmur that hangs in the air on the viewing platform. People stand in silence…staring into the void, not fully believing what is right in front of them. If you knew the place before all this happened, it is all the more incomprehensible. How could this be? Why did this happen? There are a lot of reasons, but when you are face to face with it they all just fly away like grey dust particles.
People falling falling falling
And I don’t know where they're falling from
Jann Arden,
Unloved
A picture is worth a thousand words. This is a world that has been changed forever.
So the day begins...
Still have this goddamned sinus headache. Perhaps it’s time to get my silly ass into see my doctor. Maybe some antibiotics then…Which one of me is the masochist? Lost another pound over night! The weight is just falling from my bones. But is it fat or muscle? Is it real or is it Memorex? How does one know these things? I haven’t really done a workout since coming back from New York on the 6th of August; I’ve been writing instead. My inner buff guy is going to start having a fit, if I don’t start letting him workout.
Do we all have multiple sub-personalities or am I the only one? I have all these different people in me wanting my time. For instance, my inner singer wants to sing, my inner buff guy wants to workout all the time, my inner writer wants to write all day…and so it goes. Each one of them wants to have what he or she wants. Some of these personalities are stronger than others and at different times. My inner singer…if he doesn’t get a chance to work on his voice…well, he gets very pissy with me. He’s fine if I let him sing a couple of times a week, but any less than that…boom! And this singer guy has a bunch of friends as well: The songwriter, the record producer, the arranger…they all hang out together in my head and try to get me to do what they want to do…namely make music. Believe it or not they are still interested in making music, where as I am not so entirely convinced that they know what the heck they are doing. Plus my inner writer, the one that enjoys this writing thing, has become more influential with me.
Julia Cameron talks about inner personalities as well. Her favourite is of course the inner critic, and God knows I have that one in spades. Who doesn’t?
But then there are the sub-personalities which are unique to each individual. For example, I have a very strong willed sub-personality named Doris. Carol Forte, one of my favorite voice teachers from the 80's, had a very similar sub-personality she named Doris Domestic. Doris is a German housefrau who can scrub and clean like nobody’s business. If something needs to be cleaned that has a lot of grime and dirt clinging to it…guess who cleans it? Doris Domestic! Thanks Carol for giving this person her name.
Doris loves to clean like a maniac, god bless her little dish-panned hands! And once I set her in motion…Forgetaboutit, there is just no stopping her. Doris is the one who pulls appliances away from the wall to take a good hard look at what’s behind them. You know what’s behind them and so does she. Dust and dirt! Doris thrives on this stuff and she can hardly wait to pull the whole thing out and vacuum and scrub behind it. Somebody call the police, there’s a mad woman loose in my kitchen! Of course this is all fine and dandy unless you are trying to get ready for a nice dinner out, but don't get into a fight with Doris; she will clean your clock everytime.
I don’t know why I am telling you this stuff.
I want to know which one of my sub-personalities has the sinus headache that just won’t quit, and why he or she is not taking us to the doctor. Hello!
It appears that I have blathered on in all directions quite long enough. My inner web master is saying that it’s time to post this to the website before "we" run out of time.
Got to get moving here people! Wrap it up!
So, the day beings well, if not without a bunch of screaming lunatics in my head!
P.S. Thinking of renaming the website to www.thosemarks.com.
A beautiful early September day in the making: From my window…not a single cloud in the sky. I spent the afternoon cleaning up my studio. I desperately needed shelves for my CD’s and books. Thing had been stacking themselves up on the floor. Although I was happy about finally having a window to look out of, the studio was simply not finished without some bookcases. I am a person that needs to be organized. Not to insult myself, but I am really not intelligent enough to be able to function in a mess. I simply don’t have the memory to remember what layer something is under. I need things out where I can see them, and in their right place.
Although the studio is compact, there really is not much room for more than a couple of people and the occasional West Highland Terrier. Still I don’t mind the compactness of the space. I like having things contained. In a world of endless possibilities, I am finally coming to understand the importance of setting up limitations. I’m not talking about confinements, but rather helpful limits: It is this not that, it is green not brown. Whenever we choose an end result we are limiting ourselves to that one thing to the exclusion of every other possibility. So, what we create has to do as much with what we put in as does what we leave out and what falls away.
Yvette, If you can get to a web browser and check the site…I hope you have a good couple of days off. Enjoy the beautiful weather. I’ll be holding down the Fort.
I just want to take a moment and thank you for reading thatmark.com. It has been a while since I have felt excited about the web, but I get “it” again. I understand the importance of this. We all have voices, and we need to find our voices and let them be heard. The web gives us all an opportunity to share our thoughts and ideas with the world in a way that simply wasn’t possible just eight years ago.
So a new day begins.
Open the blinds on that all important window. What do we have? Let me see. Oh ya, blaach. Nice. Of course it may just be too early to tell. 6:27am isn’t what it used to be just a few weeks ago…lets face it.
Willi was scratching himself again this morning. Seems he has finally developed that dreaded skin allergy that a lot of West Highland Terriers supposedly are susceptible to. I will make an appointment with the vet today and hopefully get him in right away. Poor puppy! It’s one of the most difficult things about having a pet. Sometimes it takes a few days to figure out what exactly is wrong with them when they are not themselves. Of course this could be a reaction to the dust in the office. I noticed that he was getting quite dusty after his office days last week, so I gave him a nice bath on the weekend, and that spoofed him up a bit, but now I have to watch him life a hawk, because this could get bad very quickly if it goes untreated. Oy.
Despite the chores on the weekend, I did go for a swim in the pool, something I just haven’t felt like doing these past few weeks. It seems that by the end of the summer the whole swimming in the pool thing has lost its appeal. Robert came over on Sunday and we had a nice time just sitting around by the pool and chatting. Stephen kept us from becoming "starving artist types" by manning the BBQ and preparing wonderful tasty things for us to eat. Thanks Tooly…I know I seem under appreciative some times but I am so happy that you like to cook and are so damn darn good at it.. A blessing and a curse for you, I know.
While Rob and I chattered on, Stephen watched the entire third season of the Sopranos on DVD and progressively developed a strong Italian South Jersey accent that made itself known between episodes,“Fuck you man…This is such fucking bullshit.” Thanks for sharing.
What more do you want from a long weekend?
I was able to cut the front lawn and water it in an effort to bring it back from the dessert. I swear I could make hay from the grass on the front lawn: Parched and dormant within an inch of its life. I could feed the cows out there. Anyway, I made a concerted effort to revive and take care of our front garden, but it all seemed so way past the point. I also was able to sweep up under the carport where a lot of leaves and debris had accumulated. Wonderful. The next day the winds picked up again and blew the same amount of leaves and crap back in place. You couldn’t tell I had done a thing. Futility squared.
And what about making some music? Forgetaboutit!
And there was of course the laundry…very exciting. I did small loads, thereby fooling myself into the impression that I was hardly doing anything. But we do have clean underwear to go to work in…which after all is what it’s all about. Right?
Work...right?
Well, I think I have done enough damage for one day. And all this and more before 7:11am in the morning! Weeeeeee…
So an new day begins…doesn’t it?
P.S. Next time I will ask more questions…like, "what the fuck?" I love that question, now if only I could get a straight answer.
More labour on the long weekend. Spent the day working on cleaning up the website and checking all the links. I have template pages...weeeeeee!
I hope your weekend was more wonderful than mine, but I should stop complaining really.
My hands are cold...very cold. Air conditioned to death. I can hardly wait for the winter...at last I will be getting some heat around here.
And so the day is almost over...
You will find me in the yard cutting the lawn today. Labour Day weekend is all about labouring around the house...getting things fixed up that I don't usually have time to do.
No rest for the wicked!
So a new day begins!