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i very fortunately happened to stumble upon a job at the only classical record store in portland, the classical millenium (which is that tiny store next to the music millenium on east burnside and 32nd), and am just about ready to renounce all music other than classical, with the exceptions of Django Reinhardt, Leonard Cohen, and perhaps Animal Collective.

the very best part of it all, of course, is exactly how educating it has been and will continue to be. already, i've found pieces (Sonata in B-Flat Major, D. 960 (Op. Posth.): Andante sostenuto) and composers (Osvaldo Golijov) that have moved me in ways that i haven't been moved in in a very, very long time.

Osvaldo Golijov, for instance, is pure genius. after hearing the portland symphony play his Last Round for double string quartets and double bass - I. Movido, urgente last night, i've been unable to get the rhythm out of my head, the sonority, the magnetism (!) of it. i don't think i've ever heard a more darkly seductive piece in my entire life. i honestly don't know if i'll be able to stop listening to it tonight.

(oh! in inaccordance to what i just said, i've also very recently fallen in love with Angels Of Light. i was listening to The Angels of Light Sing 'Other People' in jackpot records the other day and almost began crying right there in the store after hearing To Live Through Someone and Michael's White Hands. oh, and most certainly Jandek. i've been listening to his Ready for the House on vinyl quite a bit recently.)

so i suppose there is music other than classical that i am enjoying, but i'm more just coming to terms with the fact that, perhaps due to my upbringing, classical (and not all, of course; i still can't stand Philip Glass or Aaron Copland) is capable of touching certain chords within me that nothing else can.

a) i saw RJD2 a few days ago and unfortunately, i was in such a horrible mood i wasn't really able to enjoy the show whatsoever, but now i'm absolutely crazy about Ghostwriter and Cut Out To FL and i want to slap myself for not taking advantage of hearing him perform live and dancing my heart out. i'm making up for it in the living room, though.

b) what is wrong with me? i lived in nevada city for five years and yet, just now, am i realizing how absolutely amazing Hella is. of course, they were always amazing, but fuck, i never realized exactly how amazing they are. the drumming, oh my!

c) again, regretting the whole living in nevada city and not really taking the opportunity to enjoy all the nevada city musicians as much as i could have. why did i never at least have a small, even just cordial and polite, conversation with Aaron Ross? i think i told him how wonderful i thought Warlock was, but that's it.

d) for some reason, i never really thought much of Devendra Banhart before, but he very well may become the soundtrack for this summer. Electric Heart! (oh i can't even tell you how much i'm looking forward to this summer in portland. even just the few cruel beautiful days scattered against the otherwise gloomy gray and constant rain have been unbelievable. everyone is ridiculously happy and it's impossible to be in a bad mood.)

e) i'm sure i had more to add to this list, but i've forgotten it and this is getting a little long anyhow.

i'm in portland, without my laptop, so there won't be much scrobbling for quite awhile. i've fallen absolutely in love with portland and i've even found a room in a terribly rad house. now, just to find a job and to figure out a way to bring my personal libraries from pennsylvania and california all here.

anyhow, i just wanted to mention that i'm not dead and that i'm, in fact, doing wonderfully and that i'm by far happier and healthier than i've been in a very long time.

you know, i think you could figure out how i'm doing more by looking at my last.fm than you could by even asking me.

hah, oh dear.

Portishead has enchanted me yet again. without fail, if i even think of them briefly or by chance hear a track of theirs somewhere, i end up further and further in love with them and completely unable of even imagining listening to anything else. at the same time, though, there's always this slight conflict because they're rarely appropriate for my moods anymore and just listening to them brings back thoughts that had conveniently tucked themselves away long ago.

i can't mould this stage, anymore, recognise me, anymore.

the humidity here seems to aggravate loneliness to an excruciating degree. i am going insane with lack of social contact. all of today has proved to me exactly how detached from everything i am. i feel like more of a ghost than i have in years. at least before, i didn't mind. i don't know what's happened, but all of a sudden, i can't stand this feeling, i can't stand it at all, and now i'm just sitting here listening to Willie Deadwilder and as always, i'm stuck in it, stuck in this beautiful eighteen minute ballad of love and familiarity and of koorisa's little burgundy car and of leaving nevada city and of actually wanting to leave and now i'd give anything to see anyone from nevada city. i miss feeling loved, any sense of belonging, some reminder that i actually do exist and not only do i, i'm actually someone who can speak and move and not just lie dead in bed all day.

why am i hurting this much?

my taste in everything (but particularly music) has begun to just irritate me. i can't pinpoint exactly why i'm aggravating myself so much, but i'm so tired of everything i like, if that makes any sense at all. i've become so predictable. at least once a week, i will listen to Leonard Cohen for extraordinary amounts of time, avey tare and kria brekkan at least a few times, Julie Doiron for a couple of nights, and then more Johann Sebastian Bach than seems possible. yet at the same time that this is more than irritating, i can't imagine not listening to any of them in a week either. even the new things i've been downloading feel stale and overplayed.

i don't know what i'm looking for, though. i can't really think of anything that cooperates with my current state of mind as much as Leonard Cohen and Johann Sebastian Bach. and right now all i can read is bukowski and nabokov, too. i'm being swallowed by this overwhelming rut. i need something dramatically new. but not intrusively new, but curiously new, intriguing new, refreshing new. life-changing new. i need a life change. or really, i need a mental change to accompany the enormous life change i've happened into. i try to keep this thing music-related and not trivially personal, but i've already started so why not.

i found a beautiful apartment that apparently, was built by frank lloyd wright and is simply unbelievable. beautiful wood floors, a balcony, more closets than i'd know what to do with, a wonderful bath, an enormous living room that i'd probably use as a bedroom, everything about it is just magnificent. the owner is going to call us back on monday. i'm just itching for a place of my own. my own. for the first time in my life, my home. (that isn't out in the middle of the woods or on the street, that is.) i can't wait for quiet mornings where i wake up before my alarm clock is set and i drink tea and read to pass the time as the sun rises and the world awakes washed in subdued greys and soft pastels.

once we have a definite place, my mother is going to send me the rest of my books and records. i can't wait to get my record collection back. my beautiful record player and my beautiful records. oh come on, life, please, just let me move in somewhere at least. i need this so horribly.

it seems Gris has taken over my mind. it's one of the most beautiful songs i've ever heard. anything else i try to play just sounds crass and rough and completely inappropriate.

honestly, though, there's something incredibly unhealthy about my music listening. i don't know anyone else who is as obsessive as i am when it comes to music. am i just going completely and utterly insane?