arrive; verb, [uh–rahyv]
harping on about life:
- so i was invited to stay at a dear friend’s place for thanksgiving; an overwhelmingly quiet and lovely experience with lots of cooking (including a wonderfully odd mashed potatoes with mushrooms and onions baked in bacon), watching stephen fry in america, noodling through piano duets and the mendelssohn trio, yammering about consumerism on black friday, falling asleep on the slow train ride back
- i saw arrival today and i must say it’s one of the most beautiful works of science fiction i’ve ever seen, probably ten times as emotionally raw as gravity or interstellar, with no less awe and wonder
- trying to come up with plans for the summer—a part of me wants to spend three months wandering around the country and gawking at national parks and writing and reading a shitton, another part wants to do the sensible thing and find a solid internship plan, another part wants to lock myself up in a practice room so i don’t have to deal with california heat and i can learn the entirety of the goldberg variations and liszt-schubert transcriptions, and the last part wants to stay at home practicing taiqiquan with my grandma and getting a small job to pay for ramen lunches and learning to cook all the things!
- alas, those are the very ingredients for indecisiveness
- on the bright side, i’ve been reading inger christensen’s “it” and holy goddess of poetry i might even find mathematics beautiful now
- i mean if you think about it, maths gets a bad rep amongst middle/high schools and the general public, but it really is full of strange intertwining patterns and beautiful ratios and unlikely irrational numbers, and it makes me want to revisit calculus
- also why on earth does reading e.e. cummings during the holidays make me so emotional?? i.e. “and now you are and i am now and we’re / a mystery which will never happen again” like damn. it leaves me awestruck.
- (aside: yes, i feel compelled to address the fact that cummings was, at times, a bigoted misogynist, and it’s difficult to enjoy problematic work, but also, to channel oscar wilde, “all art is useless” and from a blunt, literary point of view, cummings was an unparalleled wordsmith with a knack for creating gorgeous, delicate language. i won’t turn a blind eye to his shortcomings but let me enjoy a good poem when i experience one)
- christmas shopping is actually quite difficult because now i’ve this looming guilt of “being a college student with an intense awareness of money-spending” and i’m trying to remind myself that material goods are not the only way to express affection and appreciation for people
- curdling lots of thoughts in my mind at the moment; i’m not ready to resume classes tomorrow
- boy, am i tired.