Mahler 10

This evening, I acquired a recording of Mahler's "Unfinished" 10th Symphony. I have only heard the 1st movement adagio of this piece and since I liked it enough, I thought I'd give the rest of the piece a go.

Actually, the adagio itself is quite stunning. It touches something inexplicable in me.

For the Mahler purists among you (which, if I know my readers, are none of you) his last official composition was this very adagio - scored and all. The second mvt. exists only in reduced score version and the remaining movements exist only in sketches. The second mvt and the remaining movements were scored accordingly by Deryke Cooke and it remains just as contraversial and as much of an enigma as the composition of Mozart's Requiem.

Here's is a link of Leonard Bernstein conducting what I presume is the Vienna Phil in a performance of part of the very adagio I speak of:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=wyqg8XvdElQ&feature=related

Good stuff, if you ask me.

But since no one asked me, I'm going to bed.

P.S. Someday, I want to write a film score

Even Bach was 3rd choice at the church that hired him

I don't know why but I'm finding myself severely affected by my lack of participation in North Park's Chrismas Concert. For reasons unclear to me, our orchestra director Tom Zelle has decided to scale back not only the amount of repertoire this year but also the scope of it as well. It's not for me to judge whether I agree with him and this really doesn't have anything to do with whether I agree with him or not.

The whole situation has escalated from there. Politics, money and anything else you can think of have played a decisive role in how the orchestra has turned out this year. Many faculty members have expressed their chagrin over the transpiration of these events but nothing really has been done.

My immediate reaction is to wonder why smaller works such as Stravinsky's "Octet" or "L'Histoire du Soldat", Milhaud's "Creation du Monde", Shostakovich's 15th Symphony could not be done. These works, especially in the case of either Stravinsky work do not require many players at all and it would make sense to showcase the best violinist, best oboist, best trumpeter etc. even if collectively you did not have the greatest orchestra in the world.

What has been chosen, however, are Bach pieces, which, besides being immeasurably difficult also utilize a full orchestral ensemble minus, pretty much any trombones, horns or tubas. It should be noted that much of the orchestra is made up of non-music majors who really are just getting a requirement in. Were it not for Zelle's newly enstated requirement that each performer in the orchestra submit a practice tape every two weeks, almost no one would practice. I know because last year I was in the group and could tell almost no one practiced.

This seems backwards to me. If enrollement is down, if you as a director cannot afford ringers, if the level of the orchestra does not permit large scale works to be performed, if you have about 5-10 players in the orchestra that outshine the rest, it's a no-brainer isn't it? Do smaller works that cater to those 5-10 players who are really good at what they do and can speak volumes not only about the material the school is turning out but goes to show what the conductor can do with an ensemble in adverse circumstances.

The orchestra for this year's Christmas concert is doing the Bach "Magnificat" which is...well...hard. The piccolo trumpet part alone makes most trumpet players, even the seasoned ones, wet themselves. And not to poke at the issue but here's the breakdown of the trumpet players we have to do this part: one is a non-music major, one has very little endurance, two are underclassmen - inexperienced. They do as good a job as they can but it's not suited for them. It's more of a thing to get through than a thing to learn from.

This just doesn't make sense to me. And as if to make compensation for not using whatever talents I possess, which due to this business I'm doubting more and more as the days go on, I was promised a whole 5 minutes...rather, the brass quintet in which I double the trombone part (so I don't even get my own part) was promised 5 minutes to provide Prelude music.

Maybe I'm whining. I probably am but last year at this time, I was promised that I would be participating in this year's Christmas concert. This promise came after I expressed the same frustration I feel now for no one finding a way for me to actively participate in last year's Christmas concert.

I heard from various people a few year's ago that I was talked up before I came here. The faculty couldn't wait to get their "hands on me". I heard this personally from Dr. Emrich and Dr. Lill who were, or made it seem, like it was the best thing that ever happened to them for me to enroll here. Dr. Lill even told my mom that I was the best trombone player he's heard in 18 years and Dr. Dilworth is quoted as saying, again to my mom, "I'm so glad Neil's at North Park."

Yeah...I bet you are.

In the time I've been here, I've so far been shafted in favor of arrogant, prissy violinists, lofty freshman flute players, acadmically robotic pianists, idealistic organists, and pretentious vocalists.

I don't know what contribution, if any I've made at this school and it's gotten to the point where I doubt what contributions I've made period to the world of music. They got me at North Park and as a result they have a screaming lead trombone player in jazz band, a wanna-be orchestral player in concert band, and a cronie for any little chores they happen to come up with - such as Finale files for gospel choir, trombone player for convocations.

I feel angry, I feel betrayed, I feel passionless and I feel worthless. What stings more is that even after I've voiced these concerns and feelings to members of this faculty, no one cares. Dr. Lill's comment to me was "you can survive one semester of not playing a Christmas concert." But Dr., first off, it's not just been a concert this semester that I haven't played, it's been every one this semester; and secondly, this isn't the first Christmas concert that I've been shelved for.

All I can think of are people who have succeeded in music, especially the ones who have been where I am now. People like my brother and sister who made such an impression when they were here that faculty members would come up to my parents and me whenever we came to hear them at concerts and sing their praises for what seemed like unending minutes. Faculty here still ask me about them and Zelle used to call me Nathan for a while (Nathan is my oldest brother's name).

I think of people like Meredith's friend Luke Varland who I've heard is supposed to be "the next Leonard Bernstein". He's probably being used to the extent that he deserves and people probably realize his vast propensity for music. When I think of people like him, I feel so inferior because they're the ones whose talent is being requested and mine isn't.

I can't help but think that these feelings and the extent of the whole situation has influenced my recent revulsion of the instrument that used to be such a joy to me. Whether it be by my own doing or the influence of the events around me, the whole affair has soured my relations with my private trombone instructor, caused my studies and consequently my grades to slump and lastly has contributed to my very present negative attitude as of late.

I have tried to rise above this but really don't see how I am able to. I do the best that I can with what work I am given, whether it be in class or in an ensemble but I still feel this nagging self-doubt that surfaces every time I think about or am involved with anything musical. I want to have a musical impact and right now, I just don't see that I'm impacting anyone for the better or inspiring anyone and I'm the kind of person who yearns to fill people with inspiration and enthusiasm for music just based on my own passion and zeal for my art.

Part of me wonders if I should be in music at all. I experience nothing but frustration and ill-confidence, whether it be from myself or my circumstances. It grieves me that I should be experiencing this now when for the past 20 years music has been all I was. It solaced me when I was alone, I enhanced my joy when I was happy, it increased my understanding for the world around me, it taught me love, to live, to persevere. Every great composer is an example of perseverance but lately I don't feel like persevering through anything.

I hope that the weeks over Christmas break as I spend time with those most dearest to me, I'll be able to evaluate myself and gain even more perspective but right now, I don't know what to do and I feel so inferior.

Requiem for a Piano

One of the few things I look foward to every day upon arriving at this campus, is the exquisite piano North Park owns which is the main piano for concerts and all other like festivities in the chapel. It's one of the most beautiful instruments I have every seen. Like any other grand piano, it is black but the finish on it glistenes in the light. The sound is equally exquisite. This is not the piano for Bartok or Prokofiev. The touch is refined and singing tone is made so much more possible by the delicate touch that this instrument caters to. When played right, the slight strains that ebb from this fine fushion of ivory and wood can melt the listener into thoughts of another time, another place.

Recently, this piano has become marred. The finish soiled by fingerprints, the wood chipped in places by movers oblivious of the piano's dimensions, the intonation non-existant, the touch spoiled. What has happened?

Every so often, I pass by this same chapel on Wednesday morning or Sunday night, when worships is going on. What I see and hear appalls me. The worship team, without any regard to the lush tone and delicate touch this piano is so capable of, plunks and bangs on it so as to get their own monotonous chord progressions heard. The approach is to hit, not to brush. Performer after performer sits in front of this piano and beats on it mercilessly. The casual passer-by also succmbs to this method of playing, as I have observed.

Perhaps it is too hasty to judge that the recent misfortunes befallen on that poor piano are due to the careless whallops of musical dilletantes. But it is what I've witnessed time and time again. Amateurs approaching an instrument not even I profess to do justice to.

The tuner came yesturday. After I saw Meredith off to her class, I headed down to the chapel to play a little and collect my things. The tuner was already there in the middle of a recording log of her tuning exploits, I suppose. She brought it to an abrupt close

Me: Are you the tuner?

Tuner: Why, yes I am.

Me: Oh wonderful! The piano really needs it.

Tuner: Oh, I'm only here to tune the harpsichord. But I have some time to tune the piano if they want it...[sits down and plays the piano]...yeah, it's really bad...

Me: It would be nice if it were tuned.

Tuner: They didn't say anything about tuning it. I'll ask and see what happens.

I grabbed my Mahler score off the piano and turned to leave. I nodded a thank-you to the benevolent woman. The way I saw it, she was that piano's hope. I left equally hopeful.

The same evening, while waiting for Meredith to arrive out of orchestra, I stopped in to see if the piano had been tuned. I slowly took out my newest piece (composed in C-sharp minor, a key particularly suited to the piano) and carefully placed it on the piano stand, as if I was afraid a sudden jolt or change in air speed would abolish anything the piano had going for it intonation wise.

I sat.

I breathed.

I waited.

And then I played.

How lovely it all sounded. The melodius strains of my piece flowed so naturally from the instrument, so sweetly enticing even the overtones to act in their favor. All chord-tones restored, voicing appropriate, I beamed ear to ear as the soulful phrases progressed. The tuner had blanketed that piano in her magic - it was in tune and the touch restored.

I worry though. This morning, there is yet another worship service scheduled. I hope that piano will at least remain as it was last night when I played it (I'm recording my piece tonight and would give anything for it to sound as it did last evening - that piano is the saving grace of my piece).

Someday, I'm going to kidnap that piano and we'll play Chopin together for the rest of our lives.

Not really, but I do hope that somewhere along the way, North Park realizes what they've got and will be better about informing students of said fact.

A Follow-up

The artist is always searching for the meaning of life, his own and that of mankind, searching for truth. A system of uncertainty has entered our daily life. The pressures of mechanisation and uniformity to which it is subject call for protest and the artist has only one means of expressing this, by music.

-Twentieth Century Czeck composer, Bohuslav Martinu

To see understand the pertinence of this quotation, please read the last post.

And...out.

Tonality - The Musical Element you love to hate

This weekend, I finished the latest piece I've been working on and a few days ago, I finished putting the score into Finale.

Now I know what it sounds like but just for my own amusement, I like to use the playback option in Finale. It really lets me sit back and listen externally to what I've conceived, admire that which I like and change that which I don't like (although, to be quite honest, I change relatively nothing - I don't write anything down unless it's finished in my head and by that time I've worked it over and over again so that the aspect of writting music, at least for me, is a matter of dictation...the chicken scratches are in my head).

Anyway, I converted the playback file to an mp3 format in I-tunes and sent the result to myself to download to my own I-tunes library at home. I then got the idea to send it off to one of my professors...the teacher of my 20th Century Music class, someone whom I respect, admire, and emulate much more than I will admit to anyone.

And although I respect him and admire him a great deal, we diverge into two different paths when it comes to compostion, the former preferring a more abstract, atonal style of composition as oppossed to me who composes in a very tonal (albeit dissonant and chromatic) style of composition.

Acutally, I like atonality. Often I find the sounds of dissonance are more pleasing to me than any sonorities of resolution or even hints in that direction. I love the spiky dischord that characterizes this music and yet all of it so logically and painstackingly written. It's all wonderful stuff and just as expressive and descriptive as the most expansive Mahler orchestral canvas.

But it's not the way I conceive music. I have no greater interest in music right now than to understand the theory and construction behind these formidible and poignant works and the unbearable tension and intensity created by dissonance, dense texture and/or complex rhythm within them render me a captive listener but I cannot, I am unwilling to write this kind of music. It doesn't come from me.

It worries me only because I am not a progressive. People were writting the music I am now writing, hundreds of years ago. I may seek to fuse elements of today with elements of yesturday, but I am no modern trailblazer and in a society were connosseurs are looking for the "daring" and "shocking" and "new", I must seem "altmodisch" to not only musicians but also to listeners as well.

Not that I wish to cater to the public. I don't and I think that any composer who does without remaining true to his intuitive creative side is a coward. Say what you have to say. Peer pressure in this instance produces superficial effects and I personally believe that composers ought to write music of lasting significance and inspiration for the coming generations.

I am outnumbered. Most every new classical composer is constantly pushing the envelopment, not just with atonalism and total serialism but now they are heading to a philosophical level and asking the most basic question of all "what is music". But their musical products conceived that attempt to answer this question are make progressive steps foward. Every generation of composers it seems, makes one step ahead of the previous generation and since no one has yet said "enough is enough" this continues toward obscure and sometimes incomprehensible results.

Not my stuff but I worry. Are the melodies predicatable, the harmonies overused, the rhythms commonplace, the form conventional? Is this how my stuff will be seen? Will I be known as a composer who had talent but was a coward and refused to put a foot foward? I wonder if my professor sees me this way. He's progressive himself. My stuff at times must seem puerile to him.

Is there any room for tonality? I keep a written journal and this question within the last month or so, resurfaces many times.

I voiced my concerns to Meredith earlier this evening, in no less eloquent terms, and without so much as batting an eye, she looked up from the towels she was squeezing in her dresser drawer, turned to me and almost indifferently asked: "Is it from your soul". I answered in the affirmative. "Then what are you worried about?"

She has a great point and I shut up after that. I still worry about the lasting power of my music but at least I'm true to myself.

Ironically, I'm currently pirating a bunch of 20th Century compositions of my professor's listening log URL by composers Ligeti, Xenakis, Messaien, Penderecki, Bartok and Berio to name a few and importing them into my I-tunes here at home.

G'night.

Schubert

I have this thing that I do in regards to different composers of music. I go through huge phases where for a few weeks (or months...sometimes even years in the case of Tchaikovsky) I will become fascinated with a certain composer and most of what I'll listen to will be by that composer. Besides their musics being worthy of being listened to, most of the time I am drawn to a composer at a given time because at that point I feel as if I can relate to them fairly well, if not completely in some cases.

The composer focus instilled within me for the last few weeks, almost month, has been Franz Schubert. Unfortunately, little is known about his life mostly because 1) he was never recognized as a great composer by the public at large while he was living and 2) the people who knew the most about him were his closest friends whom he saw every day, consequently the amount of letters that could exist remains diminished. There are many that survive but even these provide little insight into Schubert the man (as he was usually not open with his inner feelings and especially not over written correspondance).

A few of his closest friends (i.e. Spaun, Bauernfeld) wrote Memoirs of their relationship with the composer but most of these writings came about 30+ years after Schubert's death and are probably to some extent obscured with age. How sad that of all the great composers, Schubert is the one we know least about.

On the flip side, this creates an almost insatiable curiosity in regards to his personal life, about which, together with our own conjectures and the thoughts of his friends we may only speculate. Undoubtedly this translates into an almost magnetic draw into his music which, as a whole, is deeply indicative of the human condition. The famous singer Dietrich Fischer Dieskau once remarked that of all the composers of German Lied, Schubert was the most "authentic".

What kind of a man could write such morbid works as a musical setting of Goethe's "Erlkonig", a string quartet subtitled "Death and the Maiden", a stupendous setting of Muller's poem cycle called "Winterreise" which deals with the winter wanderings of a dejected lover and on the opposite side of the coin could also compose works of such sincere optimism such as the "Trout quintet", the piano impromptus, waltzes, not to mention the gloriously energetic 9th symphony?

Yet even in his most light works, there is this hint of pain and sorrow. Schubert often will open a piece of music with a phrase in the Major mode and the follow it with another in the minor mode. How fascinating such an individual is.

In part it is this presence of co-existance of pain with that of beauty in much of his music that is so compelling to me as a listener.

In this post, I didn't want to talk about his life so much as that I just wanted to mention the ambiguity that surrounds Schubert the man and why he makes such a fascinating composer to study. Does this ambiguity of Schubert's personal life translate into a very real ambiguity of his music. I suppose it does in the sense that we'll always be trying to understand completely what Schubert, the poor man, was trying to say through his music. Perhaps its only that mysteries have always appealed to me.

I have recently acquired by way of a generous gift the Schubert's "Winterreise, with Fischer-Dieskau singing. I have longed pined for this recording and in no way has it let me down. The performing quality is excellent of course and often times, the man just leaves you breathless with some of the things he does musically.

The music itself is very moving and depicts a dejected lover wandering to and fro in the midst of winter, disheartened and ultimately rejected. He finds a lone hurdy-gurdy man at the end of the cycle, a man who, like him has been rejected by society, and implores: "shall I go then with you? will you play your organ to my songs?" - the songs being those of a lost, isolated human being. Before this point, he even implores a cemetary for a place of repose, even referring to the cemetary as an "inn". There are many songs that are utterly captivating for me yet if I had to choose one that's my favorite, it would be his one:

The Crow
A crow has accompanied me
Since I left the town,
Until today, as ever,
It has circled over my head.

Crow, you strange creature,
Won't you ever leave me ?
Do you plan soon as booty
To have my carcase ?

Well, I won't be much longer
Wandering on the road.
Crow, let me finally see
Loyalty unto the grave !

In a literary sense, this is a completely desolate piece of poetry, conveying utter hopelessness and irrevocable loneliness. Musically it remains especially poignant (which is why it's my favorite). The vocal line is middle range bass clef while the piano plays some flittering triplet figures at a piano dynamic in the high register which seems to me to be conveying the physical distance between the speaker and the crow and also, perhaps in a more abstract sense, conveying the isolation of the speaker. Because the piano part falls in the higher register, there are less overtones heard which creates a sense of a lack of body and substance to the sound, (which is why bass lines are down low). Without a foundation in the middle or lower registers, the music has a very empty feeling to it. I've always thought that writing in the high range of any instrument conveys beautifully an inexplicaple sense of emptiness and even loneliness.

What kind of man was writing this? One wonders. My fascination will continue unabated for a few more weeks at least. And "Winterreise" is very powerful indeed, especially when keeps in mind not only what is going on in the poems, but what was outwardly characteristic of Schubert's own life. My own lied are poor stuff compared to this master.

Adieu.

Tug-of-War

I can't sleep. Admittedly, I haven't tried. I just seem to have an awful lot on my mind.

Classical Symphony Orchestra auditions are tomorrow. I was supposed to have signed up and auditioned. Who knows? Perhaps I'll get to school tomorrow morning and "William Tell" will be shipshape and I'll be able to waltz into that studio off Adams and Wabash and have them sign me up for the next avaliable audition slot. But I doubt it. That excerpt is hell and I've hardly practiced in months.

I had a talk with a professor earlier this week about pursuing an active career in composing. In the same token, I pointed out the fact that my heart just didn't seem to be in trombone anymore. And that scares me so much.

When I was a freshman and sophomore undergrad, trombone was a huge part of my life. I had a plan: I would take Jay Friedman's place in the Chicago Symphony when he retired. I'd work up my skills for the next two years of my undergrad career, I'd get my master's taking lessons from the man himself and if Chicago wasn't open, I'd audition somewhere else. But I was passionate. I loved that horn and was at the very least, an aspiring pedagogue as well.

But that passion has diminished. I could blame it on the fact that North Park's orchestra has decided to give me (a trombone performance and orchestral studies major) and other very talented wind players the finger and not use any of us. I could blame it on the fact that North Park in general has severly soured my outlook and appreciation of music in some ways - but I don't think it matters where the blame lies and I really don't care anyway. It's just alarming to me to see such a love of mine all but disappear. I always stick to things I love.

So why did I lose interest?

Another aspect of this whole thing is that I just feel screwed over. North Park, as I've mentioned, has decided to scale down the orchestra when even a year before I came, they were doing stuff like Shosny 5, "Finlandia", "Die Meistersinger", Schubert 8 with slipshod trombone players at best. And I get there, and all of the sudden, the department puts the brakes on everything. I can see what the music director, Dr. Zelle, is doing and its not that I disagree. It's just hard to accept.

Also, as I mentioned, Classical Symphony auditions are tomorrow. I was supposed to be in this orchestra. I WANT to be in this orchestra. I think that taking part in an orchestra that this year alone is doing "Firebird", "Pines", "Les Preludes", Tchaik 4" would rekindle my passion and enthusiasm for trombone (which would make finishing my degree a whole lot easier). There's a catch: for whatever reason, the job that I had this summer netted me only 1/3 of what I was promised. I have since seen another 1/3 but probably will not see the last 1/3. Because it is my employer's opinion that I have not done enough to even earn the 2/3 I've been given, I have to work Saturday's this year (which is when the orchestra rehearses) in hopes that I may somehow acquire what I'm due.

I've tried to make it work by getting a job(s) elsewhere that would NOT require that I give up a Saturday schedule but I've since been turned down by 3 different jobs (as if jobs are easy to find anyway).

So in summary, I feel passioness about the instrument and I can't even be in the orchestra full time anyway.

It wouldn't be so disappointing if there wasn't a certain woodwind player who I enjoy being with and playing music with as well who will undoubtedly be in it. I just wish we had the opportunity to play together once more before she goes off and does her business thing. She'll get in this orchestra. She's a great musician.

It's not in my character to bitch on my blogs. It's gets old to the reader after a while but I feel this is really heavy on my heart. I feel this huge tug-of-war between trombone and composition. And right now, composition is winning. There's nothing wrong with that. It's probably going to be THE thing that I do with the rest of my life. It's my outlet. It's my thing. I would never give it up. But trombone? Where does that fit and why am I so passionless about it?

Things always appear worse in the evening. That's what my mother says. Perhaps now I'll try to get some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow morning anyway.

Some Realizations

I'm back. Again.

Today was my first day back at North Park. (I'm hoping that junior year of college is not equivalent to junior year at high school in terms of how academically challenging it is.) For the most part it went well. I'm not really a big fan of the whole school thing with the homework and the projects but people keep on telling me a college degree is one of the best investments you can make.

On that note, even though I don't like school itself, I do enjoy learning and was particularly struck today by how much there really is to learn. It's not like I think that I know everything - far from it actually. It's just that I sometimes forget how much there is out there and how daunting the world of music really is, what with the whole 3 1/2 month long summer break.

Aural skills, my first class did essentially nothing for me. It was more the next two classes (20th Century Music and Theory IV) that did a number on me in that respect.

As I said, I've always tried to be cognizant of what I don't know in music and at this point in my life, there is a lot that I don't know. I was just sitting very placidly in my seat listening to those professors lecture me on topics ranging from the composition of a Bach 4-part Fugue to the the Bach chorale that makes a poignant appearance in Berg's Violin Concerto. It just hits me every so often how much that I want to absorb in music and how much I wish I was already where the greats are: so respected, knowledgable and masterful in their art.

It's so daunting to look at Mozart and know there is not one note that can be perfected or to look at Beethoven and know not one person influenced the whole cosmos of music as much as he did or to even look at Schoenberg and be struck be the power of his mind that he could essentially create the concept of serialism in music.

I look at these revolutionaries and am in absolute awe of what they could do with their gifts. And now they are all recognized as worthy tools and examples for teaching the musicians of succeeding generations.

I'm not sure any of this has a point really. I suppose this just makes me strive that much harder to achieve that which my own mind has laid before me and hope that my own gifts can make as much difference as theirs have.

As a composer that is my singular focus. Any achievement that I am able to make in my music I do with the hope of strengthening and influencing future generations. But compared with the masters, I feel like my work is just so bland. I hope so much that I can affect those who listen to my stuff for the better.

Finally, I've been feeling a special call to composition as of late. I will always be striving for that dream orchestra job but in the past few months, I've really realized that it will not destroy me (so to speak) if I don't even play in an orchestra at all. What matters is living my life with those I love closest to me and quietly expressing myself in my music. If that is my call, then I welcome it wholeheartedly. I would like to talk a bit more about this point but it is time for dinner so I bid you adieu.

Brave New World? (No Huxley reference intended)

I'm not exactly sure what to write. The demands of beginning a new blog have only been imposed upon me once before. All I can say is to give explanation for the name of the blog.

Composer Robert Schumann had two muses, Florestan and Eusebius, the latter representing the dreamy more introspective part of Schumann's nature while Florestan represented the more passionate, starker side. As I am not schizophrenic, nor have I muses of any kind, I decided that one name for myself would be appropriate enough.

Additionally, as the name probably already implies, I am a music afficionado. Of more consequence, however, is that fact that my desired profession is music. Note the "desired" part. I'm not there yet. I'm still in college working on getting that coveted degree that will hopefully make me more money than I am currently indebted. I suppose more about me will be gleaned from ensuing posts.

Of their nature I can only say that their thoughts will derive from experiences had by me. Many will be musical...I can't help it - it's who I am. But more than a few will have to do with some other things that I would have never said on my last blog, since too many people there knew who I was personally.

Composer Dmitri Shostakovich said of his own contraversial "Memoirs" that he wished them to be about the things and people in his life and not neccessarily about himself exclusively. I think that's what I want here. I figure if I want to go write a confession or give some in depth analysis of some problem in my life, I have plenty of sheets of unused loose-leaf notebook paper lying around for my own edification.

So...here's to another few years of new blogging.