NOTE: this blog is no longer active as of 12/07. New one: http://blog.kirchhof.com
Quidquid latine dictum sit, altum viditur.
Mon, 16 Oct 2006
And The World Keeps On Turning...
So much that could've been written in the last couple of weeks, but
I just didn't manage to find the time. I guess that I've been getting
things arranged properly in this little brainpan of mine. It's a time
of retooling, and rethinking, and a metaphorical time of harvest and
of plowing under, and a time to jettison habits and ways of thinking
that are no longer useful. But also, I've just been crazy busy, trying
to shoot the middle, be a dad, and accomplish my responsibilities.
The audio production work that I do is still a joy, and the quality
of the music lately has been superb. Eliza Gilkison, Jimmy LaFave,
Mingo Fishtrap, Grupo Fantasma. South Austin Jug Band is on their game as
usual. Leon Russell was quirky; Oliver Mtukudzi was magical. It is
just a really great life right now; a lot of mutual respect with folks
who have dedicated their lives to making music, and it's utterly
fulfilling. Threadgill's is getting ready to shut down for the season,
so I am trying to enjoy things as much as possible now; we won't ramp
back up until early March. I'll spend the winter working with them on
making it a better system, organizing and repairing wear and tear, and
helping around the restaurant.
We managed to get a wonderful CD from American Graveyard
shipped a month ago. I brought them together with Stuart Sullivan, an
old colleague and a world-class recording engineer that I've known for
more than twenty years. The result is a very, very strong release,
primarily recorded direct-to-stereo in one long twelve hour
session. (We got nine good tracks mastered out of that; that's a
lot. The Beatles on their best day did five songs
recording in that manner... heh.) So anyway, I am really proud of them
and the work that they did; they really stepped up to the plate and
delivered. I think that they are destined to be a successful group of
musicians; they are excellent writers with a unique feel, and you
should support them if you like their work.
Life remains lifelike. The kind woman that I was dating for the
bulk of the summer and I have parted ways with much mutual affection,
kindness, and clarity. It was not unforeseen, but that doesn't make it
any less bittersweet. My life is not for everyone; it never has been,
and to ask another person to fold into it is not something that I
do. A person just has to kind of already be there. But I've benefited
from the time that we spent together, and have come to re-realize that
taking care of the day to day realities of living can be among the
most fulfilling parts of life. My long dormant homemaking skills have
seen a recent resurgence, for example. It's a good thing.
Parenthood remains delightful, and confusing, and confounding and
exasperating and fun. Ryan's twelve now, and I am sure that if
he could get a cybernetic brain implant that would allow him to
directly interface to the computer, he'd jump at the chance. But we're
getting out of the house a bit more now, and our time together is
good. I make him pick up these things called "books"—they're
like a static set of computer screens that you can carry around with
you—and he "reads" them. There's a place called the "library" that
has a bunch of them, and we visit it every week. We joke and have fun
and do homework and try to navigate the casual brutalities that comprise
Middle School, together.
You know, when I think of all of the personal changes of the last
year, it is simply astounding. When I think of all of the changes of
the last four years, I don't really know how I came through it
at all. But I did. It's been a long period of extreme stresses;
massive,
tectonic changes in emotion and lifestyle and livelihood and
outlook and attitude. Huge life-affirming victories and gut-ripping
frustrations and soul-crushing failures. Just this awesome collection
of conflicts and resolutions and, well, life, in all of its myriad
glories. I wouldn't have it any other way. But a steady diet of
hurricane-force living will make a person tired after a while.
Happily, my son came to live with me permanently a year ago this
week. But the changes associated with that (and unrelated changes even
larger) have been a near-constant since that time. It is only now
that I am seeing the waters begin to calm a bit. I am
finally—finally—able to look a bit ahead, beyond
the next crisis.
And you know what? It's all okay; the long storm has been
weathered, and my boat is still afloat. I can see the future that I
want to have and navigate towards it; I can awake to the world with
the knowledge that the world is a pretty neat place to awake to. And
this is especially good, because this world needs our help right now,
desperately.
I am doing some of the best work of my life at the moment, and it's
all getting better a little at a time. I have a feeling of balance and
wholeness that has been missing for quite a long time, and I feel a
time of creativity and accomplishment dawning.
Let's all get our strength back and turn this thing
around. There's not much time; I'll write more on that stuff in a day
or two.
Posted at 19:25 by Randy Kirchhof [Permalink]
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