After the movie, Jason peeled off and went home, Eric and I went to Park St. station, and went our separate ways. Hopefully, by the time I write this, he's back home in New York. After the movie I went to Harvard Sq. and tried to find a place to sit and read.
Dado was completely full of people, so I regretfully left. Crema Cafe was also packed, so I wandered out, still having never purchased anything there. Following that, I tried Algiers and found it to be only about half full, and delightful. I had some falafel, fries, and a small-ish salad for a late lunch, and then a cappuccino. That place is nice - it has a quiet, cozy atmosphere. I haven't been upstairs yet, but I imagine it's not half bad either.
After I left Algiers, I decided to walk home from Harvard Square, rather than take the shuttle bus to Porter. It was a beautiful night, and while I started to take a quick way home up Concord St., I instead decided to take Mass Ave. and Walden St. home, just to extend the walk a bit.
On the way home I thought about what I'd like to do with life. I think I was somewhat euphoric after the cappuccino, which strikes me as an interesting reaction. Something about caffeine after 4:00 PM.
I thought about what we can do, as humans, to create an impact on the race. I thought about collective memory, oral history, and the telling of stories. I thought about the Wheel Of Time novels, and the world Robert Jordan created in their pages. I thought about James Cameron and Avatar, and how he created a world and a people that we as modern people would feel good and proper to be a part of. I thought about the appreciability of a good story, and how it can leave an impression on us when we hear it. How stories can teach us morals, can change the way we think, can give us an appreciation for the world around us, can bring us together, can shed light on things we would rather, but shouldn't, forget.
I thought about how I spend a great deal of time these days learning things about music, which is both familiar and very foreign to me. I used to spend a good chunk of my spare time writing, which, in a sense, I am trying to return to with this log. I thought about how my love for , and skill (such as it is) in writing are a part of my life that I've neglected for quite some time, despite the fact that, at times, I have been very good at it.
Music is new and unfamiliar, and I can't say with certainty that I am particularly good at it. I would love to qualify that with "yet," but having no concept of my capacity for improvement, will dispense with the qualifier. Perhaps I'm studying the wrong thing?
Maybe I've hit upon something that I'm uniquely qualified to do in life, given my history, passions, and skill set. It seems like a good idea. I want to help people tell stories.
I need to let that sink in a bit, and see how it holds up.
Upon arriving home, I spent a bit of time paying some bills and cleaning here and there. Eric suggested we watch There Will Be Blood, which we eventually did around 7:00 or 8:00 PM. It was an intense, spectacular movie. Definitely worth watching.
And here I am.
Tomorrow I head back to work, and also, I think, class. Yes, indeed, Jazz Theory.
It's been a strange couple of weeks. One would think being "lazy" would be relaxing, but that's not really the case. Lazy tends to equate to neglect, which is, in general, not a good feeling. I think I'm ready to be done with laziness for now.
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