Friday, May 21, 2004

I wonder if anyone reads this journal any more.  I post so sporadically, and when I do the things I really want to write about, the things I spend literal hours obsessing over, just seem to require too much time and effort to explicate here. I did spend some time today thinking about the gulf that (to me) resides between the "head" of philosophy and religion, and the "heart" of artistic expression.  I've spent a lot of time thinking about this over the past nine months - the sixty-page paper I just completed interrogates this topic quite extensively, as it relates to the work of Simone Weil, Iris Murdoch, and Samuel Beckett.  That's fine, and anyway.   For the past few days I've been listening pretty exclusively to tracks featuring Elvin Jones' awesome drumming.  I'm sure all my gentle readers know that he died this week, and my friends who read this journal will also know that he was a significant inspiration to me, as a drummer.  I've listened to A Love Supreme about a hundred times this week.  I listen - really listen -  and I can't believe that I ever let myself get so conflicted over the heart and head, and the gulf between.  I'm so stupid sometimes!   Samuel Beckett was a native English speaker, who chose to write his major works in French.  I don't know - people always view this decision as some uber-brainy show of virtuosity - but really; he just liked the fact that French had significantly fewer words than English.  A scale has only 12 notes, this or that time signature has only [1...n] beats per measure....oh, you get the picture, readers.  It would take a mathematician to break down a 4/4 like Dr. Jones, when he was in the pocket.  And he was always in the pocket. I have more to say, but I must go.  I have much more to say on this topic. But for now I'll head out with some friends, listen to some music - look here if you want to catch up with me this weekend -  and lift a drink or two for Elvin, and the universal, infinitely divisible, pulse.  More later...   7:35:43 PM