walking home last night my socks felt alien to my feet. i could feel each of my toes pushing and clamming against them. my shoes and socks were tingly. maybe compared to the dead exhaustedness of my body, they were relatively alive. two-tone blue socks that make me think of the lilys album cover. i wonder if they'll play socs hip tonight.

yesterday was berry-shirt time, vibrant and lusty, though a sour note early as i had to battle with sharples before lunch. suddenly i found myself playing the beethoven about twice as fast and more accurately than i had before, as though the benefit of slower practice burst into fruition all at once and without my meaning it to, lightning trills and runs spiriting out of my fingertips in a way i couldn't fully comprehend, and i had to keep looping again and again in case it was a fluke and would go away if i stopped playing. tony said a funny thing the other day: "there's a special place in hell reserved for people who confuse tonics and dominants, and i think i'll be seeing you there."

by the end of it (long day with many things) i was spent spent. bluesy zydeco accordioning takes more arm strength than i realized to keep it up for more than a little while. and it took a ridiculous amount of time to find bryn mawr, no thanks to the two different people who gave us blatantly false directions which not only contradicted each other but sent us in entirely the wrong direction. at least i was there in time to shake tim rutilli's hand, and for brokeback to trick two fluries into buying their album instead.

i've got to call jeff at spinART back now, though maybe i'll try luaka bop again first. and read some more of that racy deleuze.

it came out magical
out from blown speakers