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Culture on a Shoestring

Yesterday was an interesting day, PMS no doubt adding to my rich tapestry of stress.
I finally had a mini-meltdown around noon, addressed my ancestors in highly derogatory language, and spent the better part of an hour hiding behind the sofa so I could cry and shake in peace.

Because I tend to have such a long fuse I tend to surprise myself with the force of it when I snap. I'm afraid I went all Greek and smashed a load of plates, but they really do make a terrific noise, and hey I didn't smash myself so it's all good. I've also discovered that I can get Lorazepam 1 mg over the counter so I expect things will continue to look up.

Then in the afternoon after I collected myself and swept up the shards I went out to be social and meet up friends and catch up on the happenings in their lives and get fed in the bargain. Then back home to check that my grandmother hadn't died of the flu and her own toxicity, and then off! again this time to a jazz concert.

I love jazz. It combines some of my favourite things in the world - trumpets, the saxophone, and that thing that looks like a huge cello (i think the english word is doublebass?). I've also forgotten how much I like getting into places for free because my friends are musicians and tend to be on good terms with the ushers. Because we didn't have tickets we sat on the stairs between the rows of seats and had a terrific time. I have a warm sentimental glow about making a little last a long time and accomplishing a lot in the bargain.

It was a terrific concert, and we clapped and cheered and then went on to the laid back afterparty in a rather swanky bar, where I made the most of the fact that coctails cost the princely sum of £1.50 and woke up feeling rather the worse for wear this morning.

It was a terrific night, even though my exact memory of events blurs somewhere after the third Mai Tai I woke up with a lovely warm feeling of happiness and well being.

Despite the mini-meltdowns I have occasionally, most days I love my life and I feel richly blessed that I burn with the rightness of my calling. My job is not just a job, I genuinely love my work even though it frustrates me, and I know my vocation. I burn with passion for the things I do now, and I burn with the passion for all the things I want to do one day because I have a vision that makes me ache and resonate with the sheer rightness and joy of it.

Most days I feel a lot of joy, and appropriately enough perhaps for a progressed Sun in Leo, feel as though all of life is just a stage upon which I play myself, over and over depending on who I feel like being that day. I'm not a diva and I dislike dramatics, I'm just in it for the pure playful joy.

And occasionally when I'm in between incarnations I brush against something and it strikes a cord within me and I think *oh yes, I'd like to do that one day*. So for my next life I shall enjoy being a jazz singer/musician I think, and wear smoky eye makeup and have a voice husky with cigarettes but smooth and sinous as smoke. And I shall sleep too late, and drink too much, and wear my hair down and tousled. Some people think reincarnation is about growth and learning (which may be so) but in my vision of the world it's all about fun and play.

In this life professional music making is not my road, but I can do the next best thing with it which is to watch my friends light up stages, and sing like angels and close my eyes so that I am undone, transported, re-made.

Comments

( 11 comments — Leave a comment )
meepettemu
Feb. 25th, 2005 09:07 am (UTC)
Double bass it is :o)

Sounds like a great night (with the exception of crying and hiding; smashing plates is great :o))

Love.
tubewalker
Feb. 25th, 2005 09:17 am (UTC)
I'm afraid I went all Greek and smashed a load of plates, but they really do make a terrific noise, and hey I didn't smash myself so it's all good.

Nothing like the catharsis of bustin' stuff up, bliss.

Double Bass pah, any excuse to say Bull Fiddle.
mzdt
Feb. 25th, 2005 09:21 am (UTC)
I played it at school (and still do whenever I get the chance), and did actually get asked whether I could get it under my chin...

More £1.50 cocktails, Nina? ;-)
kesstrel
Feb. 25th, 2005 09:57 am (UTC)
Indeed...
I remember one notable occasion when stress became too much for me and I sacrificed my favourite mug (and the perfectly made cup of tea residing within it) to the kitchen floor. I felt perfectly calm, but the act of the mug shattering was like lancing a wound. And apparently I have a really good throwing arm ;-)
mzdt
Feb. 25th, 2005 10:05 am (UTC)
Re: Indeed...
I've (thankfully) found it rarely necessary to head off into crockery destruction, but it does have to be a favourite mug, doesn't it?
dubaiyan
Feb. 25th, 2005 10:59 am (UTC)
ouch
it was my favourite mouse for me. It had pretty multicolour buttons and everything.

*still regretting*
meepettemu
Feb. 25th, 2005 05:32 pm (UTC)
Re: ouch
At least it had pretty buttons and not pretty fur, because that would have been a little ick.. :o)
dubaiyan
Feb. 25th, 2005 06:38 pm (UTC)
hee!
I knew someone would say that ;)
meepettemu
Feb. 26th, 2005 10:21 am (UTC)
Re: hee!
Well, being a person who's had both rats and mice as pets (sorry to sully your LJ with Rodents Nina!), that honestly was my first thought; "oh no! poor mouse!" LOL
squaddie67
Feb. 25th, 2005 10:52 am (UTC)
Double Bass. It's like Bass, only more so.
miss_newham
Feb. 25th, 2005 11:10 am (UTC)
Aargh. You have done your saintly duty by your family and I'm sorry they drove you mad, but see, furniture is your friend when things are unstable... And soon you will be free of them, and see, you have marvellous friends who love you everywhere.
( 11 comments — Leave a comment )

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