journal?

well, i've decided to start a journal, i am feeling strapped for communication, and expression or rather expression pressured by the prospect of an audience and for some reason this is the opening i have got it in my head will be good for me. my intention is just to try this and see where it goes, i am not setting any expectations for myself or any other shit like that. no holds barred. also, i do not expect anyone to take these often emotionally charged, raw, first-thought bits as my final opinion, as they are my thoughts but only as a process, or possible means toward the end of self expression and a greater understanding. that said, if you have a problem with this, i'm sorry?
drafted 19.6.2003
amended 25.6.2003

29th February 2004

Well, I'd about forgotten the fact that I was supposed to be doing this, because first I never told anyone about it, and second, well I don't know why else, just sillyness. What's truly funny is the fact that I was going through thinking I should update my site or some such jibber-jabber It'd be cool if I had a journal, well how should I start it? This is when I noticed that there was already a file created to this effect. I guess these moments of re-discovering old, archived work is when we learn just how much of an asset those organizational skills we learned from mom, actually are.

Anyway, for an update, my last semester of my Senior year is quickly zipping by, and I feel like (I know it's cliché) Where has it all gone? The Cerredwin Farm is doing well, Art the Goat slipped on the ice about a week ago and dislocated his hip. Tim sent out an email asking for fiscal support to bring in a vet since he is not a direct fiscal boon to the farm, but more of a mascot that every visitor quickly falls in love with. People came out in a big way and Art has been quickly healing. There was even a child who's family is a CSA member of the farm and when he heard about Art, he broke open his piggy bank and donated fevering he had and made a "Get well quick" card, 5 year old scrawl on folded construction paper, now tacked to his stall.

this most recent picture is from the 1st annual winter carnival here on GMC, the main attraction being Horse/Oxen drawn sleigh rides. i enjoyed the ride so much i went twice (:

Also, to the right is my first tattoo... don't mind the ass-crack. in case you're wondering, it is a 175g, which is the official weight of an ultimate frisbee. One of the first questions i've been getting when people learn that, is Why that?(!) My general answer has been to say that i love my body, and really like the idea of decorating it. i've to the two rings in my left ear, one in my right nose and i see tattoos as another form of doing that. i see it also as a great way to archive moments of my life that mean a lot to me, in other words, i don't see this ending at my ass-crack.

On Friday, the frisbee team (of which two other members got similar tattoos) will be leaving to go to Savannah, GA for our spring break i've put the link to the site below which i believe has an itinerary posted, i/we are so excited. the transformation that this team has gone through in my time here has been astounding. we went from sporadic pickup games on the back field where no one was ever positive of the rules, field size or how to even throw the disk, to a team that placed 3rd in our bracket at regionals and being known by the likes of rpi, harvard and yale as the gmc flyin' Squirrels; an animal you want on your side. We've got hops, hucks, thongs, tattoos, spirit, and a love for fun. I couldn't have constructed a better scenario in my head. if that's not something to archive, I don't know what is.

High Tide Ultimate - Savannah, GA
The Ultimate Players Association - to learn more about the sport
GMC's very own... Flyin' Squirrels

3rd March 2004

god, i love music. seriously, it is just so very awesome. i think about trying to communicate my feelings about the subject, and i nearly faint. have you ever listened to music that just made you shiver? i think i'll make a mix of songs that do that. there's music that totally speaks to me. a voice, an instrument, a mix in any variation. sometimes it shifts. when i'm in a somber mood i cannot get enough mazzy star, bach or maybe the moonlight sonata. when i'm pissed i love to put on the superunknown by soundgarden and turn it up. lately i've been listening to kid koala - some of my best friends are djs, which has this really awesome track called basin street blues that takes some new orleans big band jazz type stuff and puts down a nice beat. on a similar sorta note, i've been recommended bach on a hook although i've never heard it. björk - Selmasongs is to me so rhythmically inspiring. the same goes to the likes of medeski, martin and wood - combustication and tortoise - standards. there are the singer-songwriters, keeping people in a large way, aware of the beautiful nuances of life, a short and by no means exhaustive list including the likes of leonard cohen, greg brown, donovan, jeff buckley, tom waits, pete yorn, nick drake, andy stochansky and rufus wainwright (of course, biased toward the stuff i've listened to more recently).

the next category i love to use is “art music” i like it in particular because it's more inclusive than exclusive and so does less in limiting the elaborate, multifaceted connections i draw between generes. for instance the aforementioned tortoise - standards, sits right next to the penguin cafe orchestra - st, ok go - st, mmw - combustication, mogwai, neutral milk hotel - in the aeroplane over the sea, radiohead's later stuff, the delgados - the great eastern, cake's - comfort eagle, belwether - home late, wilco - yankee hotel foxtrot, eels - shootenanny and of course, godspeed you black emporor! - f# a# infinity.

-- and now for something completely different --

19-08-05
she... there are so many of them. she down the hall, in the next building, she in portland, me she in portland, or she my sisters, she who is fond of me and i not of her, she who i am fond of but not her of me. she who is a friend, a lover a girlfriend, mother and grandma. she who is afraid, strong, artistic, shy, confidant, outgoing and a friendly bitch all at the same time. she who stalks, she who flirts, she who fucks and she who crys. she who gets pissed when he doesn't listen, come home, learn, guess, interpret, anticipate, open doors. she who gets irate when she doesn't respect, kiss, cuddle, love and yearn. she is in all of me none of the time that it matters. none that it don't won't be happy with a big frown upside down. almost all the colors in one soupy mess of emotion, not quite absent of light. she who is beautifully fat, grossly entertaining and a bundle of a little bit of everything else. she who is wonderfully medium in every single respect, except one or two. she who can't answer your questions, without staring into my eyes. she who files her teeth and scrubs her nails to maintain that exotic deadlyness. she who runs at the mention of snot or potatoes. she who can always see me smile as i look at the world? that'd be awesome.

14th March 2004

wow frisbee in georgia, it was awesome. a week of being outside, frisbee, ocean, beach, people and fun. it was definitely neat being in savannah too because it is the first old southern city i've been in. i've been to orlando, and DC, but other than that, most of the traveling i've done in the south, has been to visit either more recently developed urban areas, (most of florida), or the "natural attractions" such as the ozarks, appalachians, sinkholes, keys, etc. savannah is old like new england, but settled with more french and spanish influence than english and dutch. it is just neat because i've not had much exposure to this part of american heritage. huge old walnut trees adorned in spanish moss rivals the magnificence of central park's american elms or chicago's oaks, while also filling what i'm sure is an ever present need for shade during most times of the year (however, fortunately for us, not this time of the year). the weather was amazing. most days were clear skies with a few exceptions. it rained once, and not without invitation. the lack of clouds made for predictably beautiful sun rises and as much as i am aware of the larger scaring effect of beachfront housing on the coast, i must say it was nice to be able to wake up, and look out over the ocean. and then if i choose, walk down the stairs on to the beach to watch the sun rise over the salty water.

by the way, frisbee rocks my world. the people are, with a few exceptions, all about having fun. and that is awesome. no refs, coaches, whistles, all fun. plus the sport is fun. where else can you come off the field having just played three games straight and then play marriage, parachute and horse, pokie, or rock paper scissors with the team that you just met, were beat by and are now drinking beers with? If ever there was a game that stood out as quintessential american, i would have to say ultimate frisbee is it. with fervor for life, we play, with fun we live.

18th March 2004

early edition
man oh man, what to do. firstly i cannot fathom the fact that i am graduating. of course that's come up before, everyone says, "time flies" etc but i was walking over to piglett's house tonight and started thinking about times we spent freshman year on our floor. we played grand theft auto on conrad's computer, or we'd go over to north and hang out in his then girlfriends room. i never really thought about whether or not i'd be graduating from here. there were the cool upper classmen who were not assholes and so became instant buddies. there was shawn the ra who always seemed somehow above us in every regard. tim downstairs with his girlfriend, they were younger, not married, and both had short hair. piglett would be drunk every now and then. i'd visit his room and he'd have that swaggering gaze that looks at you like an anchor. balance when the room is spinning. words laborious at every turn. "how did you know" he'd say with so much effort. "i can just tell" i said.

now i quickly come upon that date whence i'm supposed to get another piece of paper that licenses others to treat me like an adult. yet to that question of what next, i seem to be at a loss for the ability to exorcize all the skills i've learned over the last 16 years. man it's late, more after sleep.

Learn your sails and boat types
Learn to build a kayak

21st March 2004

late edition
thinking today (i know... that's dangerous) and there are advantages to taking on brooke's position. it'd be secure, for that year. i'd be able to stay on campus and continue working on this community that i've invested so much time and energy into already. i'd be able to be around tb's newly born. i'd have free room. i'd be able to stick with the frisbee team for a while longer. i'd be able to maintain my friendships with piglett and tim a little easier. in addition finally and i feel most importantly, another thing i hadn't thought of until yesterday was the fact that faculty are allowed to bring on their dogs, and the thought of bringing annie up to live with me especially now that she's in her later years, is a really attractive thought.

i miss her completely. she is so much a part of me yet i have not been with her. at times i think that maybe i don't know her. maybe she isn't with me, but then, every time i go home, i see her and i know we belong to each other. sometimes it is an uncomfortable first thought, that of one belonging to each other, but i believe it wholeheartedly and it feels good. i am sad at times; i want her here, not tied up in a household where only half appreciate her. living eleven months in a cave. i want her to be happy like every summer that she's able to spend at the cabin. i see her laying in the sun, a bed of decomposed granite and sticks, lavishing in every degree of heat she soaks up. she lives everything around her with beauty and respect. she smiles balance on the world and loves us simply.

to all my (portland, or) people... check out the bands below:
http://www.holopaw.net/
http://www.ironandwine.com/
they are playing together at the venue below in se portand.
http://www.holocene.org/
Ani DiFranco - Wed 7th Apr 2004 Arlene Schnitzer Hall
Greg Brown - Fri 6th Aug 2004 Oregon Zoo Amphitheater

the other day i was thinking about the fact that with the sporadic nature with which we talk, and the agreement we made to try to not withhold certain facts, it was feeling at the time like the primary reason for talking became to report when we had made out with someone else. the thought of having that be a centerpiece to an already distant relationship was an almost laughable thought to me, when i picked up my phone to receive a message from this splendid sole. on the way back from mass last weekend, i got to thinking about our last summer spent together, and how much fun it was... oh excuse me, i get into the sentimental moments sometimes.

summer time
looking for life
we got in the car
one and a half hours pursuing the sun after noon
the ocean is a splendid thing.

no conscious intentions to direct
a left turn
up river to a nice little spot in the middle
the rocks call the water eddy
while we recite kerouac
we are dharma bums
happiness is all that drives you and.

as the rest of the earth begins to hide us from the sun
the dizzying thought makes me look away
yeah, this is love
but then as in any cycle
i come back around.

ocean to
rain to
lake to
river to
ocean to
life as we know it
run through a digital coffee filter
keys
indicate precisely what i mean to say
your sincerely.

spilling my thoughts onto the page in front of me
ralph is what my theo-saurus tells me
more of a verb than a proper noun
wound round this extra long neck of a sentence
from this ever evolving dinosaur.

perhaps my thoughts are all silly
metal clashing with my every inkling
until i cannot sleep anymore.

Why does green mean go
or blue mean cold, sad and lonely, freedom
why does red equal blood, stop, exit, bad, fast and hot
while black is absorbing, omnipotent, dead.

summer time
looking for life
we got in the car
one and a half hours pursuing the sun after noon
the ocean is a splendid thing.

no personal insight today, just a note to say i've got my gallery from spring break up, as well as another addition to the project page... which reminds me that i need to put in the rest of those documents.

for easter break i'll be going to visit anna in portland, me and i'm really excited. this'll be my first time to maine, so i've been busy trying to figure out where else i'd like to visit while i'm there.

...okay, so that was early this morning, or late last night but now is now (about 11:05p) and just felt like writing. i've not spent much of any money (for me) on CDs this semester, it was a conscious effort on my part toward an end of course... recognizing that (as mom's favorite adage goes, when you choose to spend your money on one thing it means it isn't available for something else... so i decided to go for that something else and i'm failing miserably! for quite some time i've had the desire/mild intention to get a 12 string guitar, not just any, but a seagull, handmade in quebec, from fallen, aged wood harvested by permission of her majesty from the canadian forests. now that's all well and good, but i'm also a frugal man (or at least fancy myself that on occasion) and so again the seagull won out with a company intention of keeping the instruments high quality while not investing gobs in advertising, in turn beefing up the price. well good, it's somewhat ecologically sound, economically sensible, however, i've never really set aside the money with any intention until now.

well i'm ready, i've got the money all saved, the store picked out, however i seem to be unable to make this happen. you'd think it easy, i call the store and say i want to give you money and then they accept with big grins and flying colors, but no. john at calliope music in burlington is perhaps the slacker i've ever met. really, i'm surprised the business is not failing. but then i realized that this is not the first music store that has not taken me seriously/been a bunch of slack asses. when i was in prescott last spring, i started this process, and the shop down there seemed incapable of making a phone call. neither to me nor their distributor. i think i went in three separate times before i gave up knowing i'd leave for the semester before they got the actual guitar in stock (it's a special order). with john, i've called at least four or five times now. he knows me by name, what i want, when i want it, he also knows i'm waiting to give him the credit card number. i mean seriously! how does that work? essentially i say i'm ready to give you money now and he in essence says no. it might as well be illegal for me to have this guitar with how difficult it's proving to be. it was early march when i told him i was ready to order, he just needed to check with his rep on the timeline, lordy.

exciting things coming up for me (:
7th-12th of April - going to visit anna clay brandt in portland, me
17th of April - Sectionals in Amherst, MA
18th of April - Tortoise is playing at the higher ground
20th of April - Damien Rice and the Frames @ the higher ground
19th?-23rd? of April - Samuel is visiting also earth week, also the time when the bikes will be unleashed... ssshhh
23rd of April - poetry slam put on by us in writer's club
24th of April - our tournament, also the night Blackalicious is playing here on campus
5th of May - the newest addition to the hughes-muse family is due
15th of May - Commencement-the end(?) of 16 years of formal schooling... oh man that's a topic for later i'm afraid.

geesh, a lot has breathed through my daily ocean of existence since the 5th... it's funny how to anyone reading this that doesn't have any other sort of interaction with me, might be tempted to believe that nothing happens between these moments, which i attempt to be so candid about, or better yet they are invited to draw black and white single line sketches connecting the dots. this is me believing that my temporally random interjections are somehow akin to a the colourful painting of the dot. however the end of schooled life as i know it is quickly approaching. i am currently taking a (preemptive) break from working on my last large paper, which i'm thinking will be worthy enough when finished to post here. today marks a special day for me, for today is the day i have gone to and returned from burlington to pick up the newest addition to my arsenal of musical weaponry. the seagull s12+ will earn a name soon enough, although right now my fingers are too tender to be typing, let alone let alone trying to name it. some subjects to possibly come back to at a later point whence i feel more academically productive:
touch on above events (Ryan's reading)
interesting encounter(s) with jeffrey grabelski
women of late
goodnight stranger... maybe sometime you'll be inspired to tell me what your sketched-lines-between-the-dots look like. i'm curious.

well i try and be regular. to no avail however, it seems that i come back to my computer to read what the last thing was i wrote and so much as happened. then the story goes that i quickly feel overwhelmed by the sopping plethora of options, words to divulge in the truest sense. okay, where to start... supposing will answer that question with the most obvious and exciting. The last few days have been bursting with fresh new organic lives. before class on tuesday i got word of two lambs that sigrid had just lambed, so i went and got to see them. after class i went home and picked up the phone to a message. just before that i remember thinking... i hope (bet) it's tim calling about the baby. the message service informed me of the number of the 404 area code. none that i know, must be a calling card from the likes of tim or someone else. the message conveyed the vital facts. Willow Morgan Hughes-Muse was born on the 3rd of may, 2004 @ 11:41p. she weighed 8lbs 13oz and was 21" tall. as soon as i got that message i was immediately so happy. going back and forth, i eventually decided to call them finding the number online. he answered and i asked. his calm reminded me of their wedding day. even over the phone he seemed so present in what he was doing. he wasn't working, his mind wasn't racing, and his voice was soft. everything was deliberate, i don't know, maybe it's just me. my drive was quick and meandering. she is amazing, quiet, a dark brown, full head of hair, brown-grey eyes. everything is miniature. her little finger nails seem unreal. a little pointy tongue yearns to feel and experience until the eyes take over, this little alien came out from brooke? wow, i'm amazed.

ode to bbbfb...
oh to speculate what my life would be without this pear of quirky weirdness. in all seriousness, he is walking brainfood for me. not so much in the sense that he challanges me per se... he inspires me to find that other vantage point. everyone should have a bbbfb in their life. before i grew so fond of him, he looked to me, and i think not unjustly so, as if he is a sort of person that needs people to be frustrated with him. frustrated, pissed, inspired, happy, anything so long as it is passionate. he seemed to thrive on his, "a city-boy, by any of an unknown number of circumstances, stranded to his current scenario and thus forced to deal with rural urban-culture ineptitude, but he knows it's good for him and so takes it like cough syrup or a good fuck in the ass." or at least this was my assumption of him. and like in any good assumption there is some truth, and not truth. for now i'll let you believe that of the qualities listed, which you see as positive are the real ones and the the bad ones are the "ass-u-me" part. time to email...

pictures are difficult because ive not been at my own computer. instead, i've opted for a more nomadic sort of existence. It started with the week post graduation, which i spent working at cerridwen farm, afterwhich i attended cadmc's graduation, meeting david mammet and getting my first ever graduation money. i started working for a family in middletown springs, vt that need help getting their 1 acre or so of garden ready and growing. currently i'm hous sitting while they are taking a family roadtrip to to our nations capitol, for the oddesy of the mind competition.

money is such a strange thing. it is at the base of so much stress in the world, while providing at the same time a conduit for enjoyment (at least construed) as unparalleled in today's balanced chaos. the reason i mention it, is because after thier divorce, my parents fiscal situations have evolved, yielding in turn, a different mentality toward me with regard to money. my mom, with her partner has developed a role in a business that affords her more luxaries than she was previously used to. for me this (being one of many factors) means that she is really eager to endorse me in my various adventures. her partner too, has made it clear that he has an interest in supporting me. my father brings another part of the balance to the picture in his situation. still working hard and with less fiscal comfort, he encourages me to seek out things that will empower me to make it for myself. i'm pretty sure it has as much to do with his own selfless desires for me as it has to do with his own situation and of course, many other factors. in the past my mother seems to have had more experience at ensuring i am supported in the way she sees fit. however, as my father has (it seems at times) scrambled to educated himself on how to fit into our lives in a whole new way, he has become more adament about being able to feed us his vision in equal ammounts. what has brought these thoughts to the page is my latest action. just being out of school (which, i think is the last fiscal decision my parents ever concurred on) has been a tremendous stress on this balancing act between which to feed from. the distincion i think, has never been so distilled. he wishes that i come back to chicago, let him subsidise my living by taking residence with him while working to earn some money toward the end of supporting myself financially on the adventures i would like to take. whether that is kayaking across the country, traveling to foregin places or being gamefully unemployed for a period of time. she has expressed a vision of me staying in vermont and at her fiscal expense usurping all knowledge i can from working on the afore mentioned cerridwen farm.
his desire to have me close is understandable, he has not made a situation more desireably a kin to my mother's until recently and so he has reason to desire our physical presence in his life. this is not to say i or my siblings are at a stage where we are willing to give it.
it is difficult because i see both parts in myself. my desire to be out of the house is strong. in addition, i also want to be increasingly financially independant. they both want me to keep learning, they both want the best for me, but what that is has evolved into the debate. I can't say right now, more thoughts on that later.

sometimes i come away from a situation really wanting to write and knowing what about, a message to convey. other times i don't feel there's anything to write on but feel i must. sometimes like now, i feel like i want to write but have no idea where to start. the concept of "what should i write about" is the ultimate bloque. elvis costello gives me rythm, no voice is too distracting. maybe the vines are a little better.
i have been the jealouse ex boyfriend and recieved lectures on what is best to do. best for me, best for the other. it sucks, i wanted to know everything, without knowing why. i wanted to know that i meant something, that all the words we had exchanged, the intimate times were not going to be laughed at or worse forgotten. the more i learned the more i wanted. those wise, turned me away. for fear, for concern, for love. a soul i respect, once told me that sometimes the greatest form of love is space. well intentioned and delivered space can be more loving than any hug, worry, kiss, look, or thought. i dunno, losing steam now...

wow, it's been a while... well i guess that means nothing except that any regular attendees might have an excuse to believe that i have somehow been inactive or something like that, however this is not the case. to start i've been in chicago, which has to be my absolute favoritist city. as soon as i arrived, i became consumed with pursuing the splendid resources this place has, the very resources that i've yearned with every pilgrimage to vermont which (seemingly took me farther from them while at the same time) had the effect of cooling my vision of what exactly it was i yearned for each time i was away. the glory of self expression. music. poetry. art. in fact, this is where the majority of my fiscal resources have been directed in the last three weeks. concerts including john hasbrouck (who i have now scheduled to take some lessons with) at the unity temple, the magnetic fields and andrew bird at the old town school of folk music, ladysmith black mambazo, ben folds and rufus wainwright, the julliard string quartet all at ravinia. i've also been to see the slam that dan is hosting as well as the uptown slam with marc smith (so what).
alas i also recognize that this city has other splendid resources, and i am trying to make the best of them as well. first off, going to the navy pier, which i don't like to attend because as soon as i do, if i don't look blue collar enough, i feel as though everyone assumes i don't live here... but anyhow, i went to garner info from the windy i & ii tallships. the woman i talked with informed me that although they did not currently need any help, she would take my résumé for future consideration. next i asked her about how and where they get the engines serviced, to which she explained that all uscg certified captains must have a working understanding of the mechanics of their ship. so then i asked about who i might talk to or where i might go to learn more about (learning) diesel engines. she told me to email bob and proceeded to give me the wrong address. upon retuning home i emailed bob (i already had the right one before going down there).

bob has not responded yet, however i spent some time looking into classes and found a correspondence course on diesel mechanics through thompson.
for some time now i have also tossed around the idea that i could, if working on a boat, pursue converting it to biodiesel. this in combination with hearing khanti's stories of biodiesel coops (which collect yellow oil and reprocess it for biodiesel applications) have helped render visions of creating one such coop in chicago. my research to date has revealed no such organization other than one that is located near o'hare, which only sells b20 made from soy. it seems like now is a prime time for exploration of this resource. there is market research i came across, which was done back between 1995-99. it was all marine based because (i think) it's a relatively small local diesel motoring community. water taxi services and dock side refueling stations started selling a b20 mix and eventually ceasing because the cleaning qualities of biodiesel and the fact that at the time, it was not understood what was going "wrong" (now it is understood that biodiesel's solvent qualities were removing old buildup, mandating several fuel filter changes). the national biodiesel board(nbb) published ->a report<- on the findings (if the link doesn't work, search "chicago" on their website)... well i'm getting exhausted of energy to sit here anymore, so adieu for now.

i want out of this place. sometimes i consider mindless moneymaking employment for no other reason than to meet my personal desire to be free of the stress brought on by living with people who have other aspirations for me. i fail to understand why exactly.

it is funny how sparce this is of late, i have so much access to the computer, but i do not want to spend time here. not to disqualify the interest of anyone who may be remotely captivated by my musings, but, fortunatly i guess, i am thoughly entertained by my other occupations. perhaps i will delve into them tomorrow.