It’s bad enough that the whole venture set out with questions like ‘who the hell is Thom yorke?’… and forays into wikipedia-space to find out. ”Huh. He’s done all this stuff. So how come I never heard of him?”
the setup
I had followed a friend of a friend to a friend’s life drawing class… only, friend twice removed (Jess) was a bit vague on the exact spatial coordinates of said class. It was one of those OCAD best kept secrets, I guess. We never found the room. The security guard was clueless. The random students we bumped into were also clueless. It also happened that Jess lived pretty close by and, having invited me all the way downtown, felt like we shouldn’t let the morning go to waste. The let’s go back to my place and paint! plan B seemed like it might be fun, though I had all kinds of reservations around the actual painting activity. I don’t really like painting. It’s so… slow and meticulous. As far as I knew, painting was a lot of work for very little in return. But Jess’s evangelistic mission to convert people into painters would soon find us breaking out some brand new canvas and getting out brushes and paints… Continue reading
Cheap it is not.
On the whole, my drumkit teacher hasn’t managed to completely stump me. Until a couple of weeks ago, that is. And the worst part is, he did so with rhythms that I ought to be ethnically predisposed to. I’m speaking of course, of the effing 12/8; a time signature in which some of the most common African polyrhythms are written (though, as I soon found out, not necessarily processed in).
There’s been a lot of waffle recently on a (supposedly) brand new type of skills shortage, in which the pool of un-employables have skillset {a, b, c} while the actual roles they persistently aren’t allowed to fill require skillset {d, e, f}. I’d never thought of that before until I’d heard it mentioned on TV.