A Day in the Life…

(Journaling while in transit)

Breezy day — coolish; some sun — I’m sitting on a bench in the makeshift GO station at York Mills and Yonge, once again waiting for the ‘Oshawa 94’ to roll in and whisk me away, back to Ajax, and what might possibly be the last recording session with Daniel L. at his place.

We’ll be tracking all electric guitars today, and possibly vocals, as well — time will tell. My “spidey senses” are telling me that the Bass parts — at least in the verses — aren’t where they should be. I might consider revisiting them once I’m back in my own space, but certainly not now, while he’s “on the clock”…

There’s more clarity in a cold space; the air is thinner — more space to move and think, unobstructed by plumped up water particles and heat…

(pause — bus arrived)

Pleasant driver — nice. Not always the case. A few moments of small talk as I boarded, then found a seat. It’s frigid on this vehicle today — I had to put my jacket on, but I like it. There’s more clarity in a cold space; the air is thinner — more space to move and think, unobstructed by plumped up water particles and heat…

(edit)

… just looking up, I noticed I’m already deep in to Pickering — possibly on the cusp of Ajax. Time is so salient as it just flows by when we disregard it. I’m feeling calm, at ease. I have a vague headache and I’m tired, and while looking around, a sense of soft disconnect is present, but nothing to panic about — no negative feelings at all. A moment ago, I was struck by the thought:

The rate at which I’m writing today — if sustained since the commencement of this journal in July 2004 — would have filled this book up in no time. Which was the original intent. I was inclined to feel regret, but nipped it in the bud, for if I had done so, the rich and dynamic tome which I now hold would never have existed; spanning over 6 years and butting disparate situations together like building blocks.

I have a feeling that my first book to be completed is not ’12’, but this one that I now write in. That feeling extends to the idea that I might be finished within the next few weeks, and upon completion, can safely tuck it away, returning to it so as to review everything at a distant point “down the road”.

I shall look forward to that day.

(pause to leave bus)

In reflection, I seem to recall myself feeling like something was “coming on”, which usually meant a vivid melancholy; one from which I could extract fantastically poetic visions and references.

It seems I’ve beaten Daniel to our rendezvous point, so I’ll quickly pick up where I hastily left off:

Now I’m sitting on a bench at Westney station, observing my fellow hominids and experiencing the elements first hand once again: cool breeze, hot sun — lots of ambient sounds. To my west, a belt of varying green trees is being tousled by the wind, and I’m aware that at any moment, I could enter in to a “hyper-poetic” head space.This is of interest, for on the bus, I commented on being/feeling a “soft disconnect”. I’m realizing that these states might actually be induce-able? Granted, at certain times, with greater ease than others, but induce-able all the same…

(in reflection, I seem to recall myself feeling like something was “coming on”, which usually meant a vivid melancholy; one from which I could extract fantastically poetic visions and references)

(edit)

 

Jon Mychal / Ajax — Sept. 23 2010

Share
About Jon Mychal

Left-leaning, anti-theistic 'Mo Fo'TM.

"He's a high-toned son of a bitch!" ~ George Stark

Speak Your Mind

*