Learning to Love you More

Assignments for anyone who is a little bit sad or a little bit happy. My favorites:

Staying awake

or
Crying art


or
friend's friends


or
Trying to be sad

Try it.

Ever so long awaited

Hey, Everyone! The Cedar's newest, best ever, full-length album is, finally, now, officially:

Available!

Hurrah! From CDbaby or gigs or me or itunes (but I don't recommend itunes because then you don't get the lovely hand-made-out-of-William-Morris-Wallpaper-and-twine case, or all the free gifts that go inside it.)

Free gifts?!

Free gifts!

Oh, and music too.

Extreme viola

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely, 100% love, love, love what I do with the Cedar and the Stringbeans etc. But sometimes, I need to live a bit dangerously to get the viola-adrenaline flowing. Sometimes I play with the Mandibles.

This is dangerous because I don't do it often. Not often enough to actually know the set list, which is constantly growing and changing. Just every now and then the oppurtunity presents itself and I get to go pretend I know what's going on onstage in front of audiences. Including taking solos on tunes I've never heard before. Brilliant! That's my kind of adventure sport.

For those interested, the on-stage process I go through goes as follows:

-Find the tonic (that is to say, what key the piece is in)

-Figure out the harmonic structure (does it just go I-V-I? What's up with the minor section in the middle? etc.)

-Figure out the bass-line

-Watch out for the look from one of the others that means Go! Emma! Make up a solo now!

-Smile.

Me too.

(thanks xkcd.com)

Hours and hours

Maybe I should have really expected it, but, wow, critical PhDs sure take a lot of thinking.

It seems quite obvious, but, really, the thought-load is enormous. Which is as opposed to the work-load. Previous degrees I've embroiled myself with have required hours of essay writing, text analysis, teasing of numbers and scripts and scores. But this one is different. I sit down with my tea and my computer and an idea/problem and think. For hours. Burrowing my way into my own tiny theoretical world further and further.

Sometimes I make charts, sometimes I make more tea,

but mostly, I just think until it hurts. At the end of the day I might write down a sentence; if I've done well it might have two clauses.

One day, soon, the dam will break and all the thoughts will come together, pouring out in perfect prose and proofs, one whole thesis' worth. But, until then, I wear my glasses to show I'm serious, and think.