having martha here (three days now, and each one she seems more inclined to enroll) makes life more normal and less normal (i guess depending partly on whether you think college life is normal) - it certainly creates that illuminating/revitalizing/self-otherizing distance that always comes with being in the presence of 'outsiders'/observers. it's a focus, albeit one of several - but not like she's affecting my schedule much. she's probably spending as much time with rob as with me (and my floor.) and evidently enjoying (even my boringest classes.)

she came to p.o.r. yesterday, when mark decided to show us breaking the waves instead of talking about the weil i started to read (except for ten minutes or so when he kept calling her "mcveigh.") it's just as devastating as i remember, and more engaging. i'm not sure if bess is emily watson prefiguring björk as selma, or vice versa, or if lars von trier just has all his lead actresses act the same way.

tim, becca, and meggie's art was perfect for the sunny day - lovely art, the best reception table i've seen here, and everyone wearing their pretty dresses. tapping behind the map room with drummers, and later in class with sister (whew!). then we caught a bit of wave twisters, which was weird but amusing. i would have liked to see atanarjuat again, but i guess one 3-hr epic arctic artpic is enough for one day.

no seder (certainly not, what with all that), which surprised my mother for some reason, but we did go to a bonfire. a best way to acknowledge this latest and brightest springburst before being plunged back coldwards (i don't dislike this new weather either, of course, but it can't help but feel like a holdover. slow progression is fine, but progression.) by firetime, the majestic full harvest moon was bled white and only intermittently visible (at times the interplay of cloud cover and light pollution made the only clear places in the sky look like the only clouds.) luminous, of course. luminous girl was there, of course, with her goofy simfriend, and gimpy morgan - but first it was just (drummer) boys. luke and eadley and i played three (mine was norm), progressing from 4 to 4 to 6 to 5 while gazy twirled a firestick and martha rustled some leaves.

i picked through the pile of tinder to find a resonant stick or two. just one, i beat against a log, and it elicited a surprisingly forceful response from the woods above. as i played on, pieces of the stick gradually fell away until i was left with the sturdy hemicylinder of its heart. eventually, i couldn't hear the sound of it striking the log, and the music i was making came solely from the haunted fractured echoes from across the trestle, which arose in response to my logstrokes as naturally as a tone sounding from a piano key. when that ended, i discovered that my stick had given birth to claves, so i tried to sustain that groove under morgan's saxophoning.

while we played, a timid trio approached: sorry for interrupting, they whispered, but when do you think you're going to be finished here? they wanted to have a bonfire too. of course we invited them to join us, in fire and music and merry; they offered their boughten wood and s'more makings, and said more people would be coming. they seemed tentative in accepting, and indeed stayed mostly off to the side with their battery lamp, shooting confused glances towards us or huddling on an opposite log. it felt like a weird reversion to some prehistoric proto-civilization pagaent, involving opposing clans and the secret of fire.

moving on, past some folks struggling down the slope with 12-packs of beer, magnolia petals in whartyard, free cake and expensive ice cream at paces. i needed to sleep then and i do now, even though baudrillard deserves a bit more attention. he'll get it, and you won't get a description of the cs/cex/ps show until tomorrow or later. but don't worry. everything looks perfect from far away.

the concert aside, today had lots of nice moments: 'fancy' sharples breakfast with m and my best homophonymous friends; guided x-rolls and a lovely impro with muted primaries and triple-decker-supports; joel's unassumingly heartfelt praise and encouragement for composition as a way of life. assassins casualties today: the rubber tip of my glasses frames (how?), element of surprise, my right pinky, phone cahl with george dahl. not ass.

periscopes
they've got everything you will ever need
(cex sang this to himself while he was setting up)