Monday, June 21, 2004
The unbearable lightness of being thru my window pain...
It was the most meaningful weekend I've had in a while. The weather was beautiful in NJ. Friday was pretty much all driving and catching up with my sleep. Met up with a friend Saturday afternoon at the hip Cafe Orlin in East Village, Manhattan. Had talks about identity change, expectations, and crazy signs. It was brief and superficial but I got my points across.
[Time out! It's hard to write an entry after a weekend full of action. So bear with me and don't be offended.]
Getting my points across has been my practice lately. Hate to beat around the bush anymore. Did a lot of people watching too, and yes, New York people are a lot hipper, dress nicer, but at the same time, have a lot of problems with their identities. There are still people who are into the whole grunge, rave, chain/car-keys scene, though it is not considered cool anymore.
Met with my favorite Chinese family at Tanaka Sushi Saturday night. They used to take care of me when I went on vacations in NY during my Cornell era. Just reminiscing old times and catching up. It was very pleasant. I was surrounded by genuine friendliness and comfort. (Wow, I can't believe this is what I'm writing...corny and uninspired. Somebody shoot me now!) Didn't go to Smoke Club after all.
The meeting with Adam's family on Sunday couldn't have gone any better. It was very comforting to find everyone in such good spirits. I learned more about Adam by visiting his room. Brian and I finally got together and played a few songs that Adam would've liked us to play. I felt that Adam was there with us the entire time.
The feeling of loss is like a pillow, tangible yet soft. You can lean on it when you need to lie down and you can lift it up when it's time to get up and go to work. And often you find traces of tears on it. Instead of feeling pain, I sensed hope, and it was the message I brought home with. The Father's Day theme resonated too. Everyone commented that it was a good gesture for me to be there on Father's Day, though it was unintended. I hate taking credits for stuff I didn't plan. Perhaps it was just symbolic or a coincidence.
Jeff wrote an entry celebrating Nap Turner's legacy, but it really was an ode to the good ole Jesse James. Gavin wrote a sentimental piece on how he wanted to play with Bill again after Elvin Jones' death. Similarly, my only wish is to play with Jesse at least once more in my lifetime. Indeed, those Toulouse nights were the perfect nights. To those people who have never heard of Jesse James, ("Jesse who?") forget it, you'll never get it.
P.S. I popped an oldies CD in my car stereo and I couldn't help but feel sentimental when Bobby Vinton's "Roses Are Red" started playing...
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[Time out! It's hard to write an entry after a weekend full of action. So bear with me and don't be offended.]
Getting my points across has been my practice lately. Hate to beat around the bush anymore. Did a lot of people watching too, and yes, New York people are a lot hipper, dress nicer, but at the same time, have a lot of problems with their identities. There are still people who are into the whole grunge, rave, chain/car-keys scene, though it is not considered cool anymore.
Met with my favorite Chinese family at Tanaka Sushi Saturday night. They used to take care of me when I went on vacations in NY during my Cornell era. Just reminiscing old times and catching up. It was very pleasant. I was surrounded by genuine friendliness and comfort. (Wow, I can't believe this is what I'm writing...corny and uninspired. Somebody shoot me now!) Didn't go to Smoke Club after all.
The meeting with Adam's family on Sunday couldn't have gone any better. It was very comforting to find everyone in such good spirits. I learned more about Adam by visiting his room. Brian and I finally got together and played a few songs that Adam would've liked us to play. I felt that Adam was there with us the entire time.
The feeling of loss is like a pillow, tangible yet soft. You can lean on it when you need to lie down and you can lift it up when it's time to get up and go to work. And often you find traces of tears on it. Instead of feeling pain, I sensed hope, and it was the message I brought home with. The Father's Day theme resonated too. Everyone commented that it was a good gesture for me to be there on Father's Day, though it was unintended. I hate taking credits for stuff I didn't plan. Perhaps it was just symbolic or a coincidence.
Jeff wrote an entry celebrating Nap Turner's legacy, but it really was an ode to the good ole Jesse James. Gavin wrote a sentimental piece on how he wanted to play with Bill again after Elvin Jones' death. Similarly, my only wish is to play with Jesse at least once more in my lifetime. Indeed, those Toulouse nights were the perfect nights. To those people who have never heard of Jesse James, ("Jesse who?") forget it, you'll never get it.
P.S. I popped an oldies CD in my car stereo and I couldn't help but feel sentimental when Bobby Vinton's "Roses Are Red" started playing...
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