... FOR BETTER OR WORSE
themissiondistrict
Mar 11, 2008
In my years (which really aren't all that many) I have come to learn certain things about myself. I wonder at times if I may have developed an unchangeable lens on my perception of the world as a child and only realized it after escaping the awkward and confusing years of new hormones flooding my brain and altering its chemistry that I experienced as a teenager. While my ability to understand what I experience may be unalterably tinted to a certain degree, I still feel as though I'm breaking free and returning to my normal, free spirited, child-at-heart self with a wiser soul and a less naïve mind. Confused? Let me explain...
As a kid, I like to think I was always pretty imaginative. I would draw and climb trees, stare at the clouds, write poetry and stories... I even wrote a series of short stories in grade 6 entitled "The Evil Collar" about, well, an evil collar that was possessed by an alien spirit that would enslave whatever it was attached to bent on destroying the planet for some unknown reason. I wrote about 8 or 9 books in the series and they featured an evil dog, an evil tiger, and even evil stingrays until finally in "The Evil Collar 10: The Final Chapter" the alien succeeds by learning to exist beyond the bounds of the collar (which was actually a prison I think), infiltrates and detonates a stockpile of nuclear war heads deep under the surface of the earth and manages to blow up the planet. I still think it's a great story! I only ever had one reader's comment though that read something along the lines of:
"I didn't read your story, it's way too long... but I'm sure it was good!"
I'm finding myself falling back into this mind set I had where I crave that creative outlet at all times. Perhaps it's because of all the excitement I feel in the potential surrounding this band that has kick started my brain back into gear- pulled me out of the muck and confusion- reverting back with a learned mind towards my natural inclinations into that world of whimsy I enjoy...
As I was saying though, I'm realizing that I haven't changed much since I was younger. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm a dreamer. I like to imagine and create, ponder and listen, read escapist stories in as few sittings as possible... I can't help it, I didn't ask to be so inquisitive and pensive (although I can't imagine being any other way) and I don't pretend to be otherwise.
I mentioned in my last post that I had a renewed interest in the piano throughout high school and as I was re-reading what I had written it got me thinking about how a major constant in my life has been my attraction to playing instruments. I enter this peaceful state where I just relax and immerse myself in playing how I feel or convey specific emotions. It's very therapeutic!
One of my favourite things to do is sit at a tuned grand piano and play something based on how the piano sounds and the mood I'm in or something that depicts a scene I imagine. For the most part, I'm self-taught on piano (I did pick up the basic elements and theory from having played the vibraphone in high school) and actually wanting to play while not being forced to experience it from a theoretical and mechanically technical point of view has allowed me to develop (aside from terrible technique and bad posture) a love for music that I can't explain. I truly believe it is an integral part of the sensations we've naturally developed such a high appreciation for as a species. It is a part of my existence and I think that it's fair to say I could not live without it. If you are reading this, perhaps you know what I mean.
The problem, and possibly even the initial premise of this entry, is this: The concept of the Monday to Friday, nine-to-five workweek has become daily routine and normal, well established conduct for almost every one. It has also always been synonymous with such concepts as hell on earth for me but in order to get anything done, in terms of the betterment of your position in life as you "grow up", I find myself at a disadvantage in this world full of extroverts and those who can set goals and milestones while working methodically towards achieving them. I have a terrible habit of having dreams and goals in life but the ability to step out of my natural tendencies and implement to-do lists and schedules eludes me. Find me a piano and I'll play for you how I feel.
At this point I'm not even really sure what I'm trying to explain or express. I think what I'm getting at (as I often tend to seemingly ramble with no apparent purpose and do apologize for it) is that however hazardous it may be to my integration and assimilation into the normal nine-to-five world where people make lists and check them off (that supposedly does exist I am told), I can't help but feel as though it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I am too curious for my own good and will continue to stand by my lofty leanings, guided by my intuition, luck and the direction of the wind, condemned to forever look towards the sky, fixed on the stars in absolute wonderment.
I am and forever will be a dreamer... For better or for worse.
Hi Dad!
Evan
As a kid, I like to think I was always pretty imaginative. I would draw and climb trees, stare at the clouds, write poetry and stories... I even wrote a series of short stories in grade 6 entitled "The Evil Collar" about, well, an evil collar that was possessed by an alien spirit that would enslave whatever it was attached to bent on destroying the planet for some unknown reason. I wrote about 8 or 9 books in the series and they featured an evil dog, an evil tiger, and even evil stingrays until finally in "The Evil Collar 10: The Final Chapter" the alien succeeds by learning to exist beyond the bounds of the collar (which was actually a prison I think), infiltrates and detonates a stockpile of nuclear war heads deep under the surface of the earth and manages to blow up the planet. I still think it's a great story! I only ever had one reader's comment though that read something along the lines of:
"I didn't read your story, it's way too long... but I'm sure it was good!"
I'm finding myself falling back into this mind set I had where I crave that creative outlet at all times. Perhaps it's because of all the excitement I feel in the potential surrounding this band that has kick started my brain back into gear- pulled me out of the muck and confusion- reverting back with a learned mind towards my natural inclinations into that world of whimsy I enjoy...
As I was saying though, I'm realizing that I haven't changed much since I was younger. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm a dreamer. I like to imagine and create, ponder and listen, read escapist stories in as few sittings as possible... I can't help it, I didn't ask to be so inquisitive and pensive (although I can't imagine being any other way) and I don't pretend to be otherwise.
I mentioned in my last post that I had a renewed interest in the piano throughout high school and as I was re-reading what I had written it got me thinking about how a major constant in my life has been my attraction to playing instruments. I enter this peaceful state where I just relax and immerse myself in playing how I feel or convey specific emotions. It's very therapeutic!
One of my favourite things to do is sit at a tuned grand piano and play something based on how the piano sounds and the mood I'm in or something that depicts a scene I imagine. For the most part, I'm self-taught on piano (I did pick up the basic elements and theory from having played the vibraphone in high school) and actually wanting to play while not being forced to experience it from a theoretical and mechanically technical point of view has allowed me to develop (aside from terrible technique and bad posture) a love for music that I can't explain. I truly believe it is an integral part of the sensations we've naturally developed such a high appreciation for as a species. It is a part of my existence and I think that it's fair to say I could not live without it. If you are reading this, perhaps you know what I mean.
The problem, and possibly even the initial premise of this entry, is this: The concept of the Monday to Friday, nine-to-five workweek has become daily routine and normal, well established conduct for almost every one. It has also always been synonymous with such concepts as hell on earth for me but in order to get anything done, in terms of the betterment of your position in life as you "grow up", I find myself at a disadvantage in this world full of extroverts and those who can set goals and milestones while working methodically towards achieving them. I have a terrible habit of having dreams and goals in life but the ability to step out of my natural tendencies and implement to-do lists and schedules eludes me. Find me a piano and I'll play for you how I feel.
At this point I'm not even really sure what I'm trying to explain or express. I think what I'm getting at (as I often tend to seemingly ramble with no apparent purpose and do apologize for it) is that however hazardous it may be to my integration and assimilation into the normal nine-to-five world where people make lists and check them off (that supposedly does exist I am told), I can't help but feel as though it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. I am too curious for my own good and will continue to stand by my lofty leanings, guided by my intuition, luck and the direction of the wind, condemned to forever look towards the sky, fixed on the stars in absolute wonderment.
I am and forever will be a dreamer... For better or for worse.
Hi Dad!
Evan
