24 April 2009

While doing some spring cleaning, I have unearthed some of my diaries from my time at Reed College. I am going to publish the few good bits and consign the rest to oblivion.

Proceeding in chronological order:

September 14, 2002.

Ten dollars bought me three hours of Indian classical music--meaning about 5 cents per minute. Kalakendra
is the group sponsoring, and we were put through an endless raga before the intermission. It was a little Straussian.
The final piece was a classic song for Krishna which was what I had been hoping for and expecting.

October 30.

...today a stiff blast of cold air hit Portland. As long as I stayed out of shadowed areas, it wasn't intolerable. Indeed, coming back from downtown on the bus I could see Mt. Hood, as if it were an inflatable pyramid plopped down somewhere a few miles to the east. (It was a rather sickly gray-brown, barely touched by snowdrifts still!)

November 3.

Nothing happened of import today. I had a true hangover--the headache was minor, but my body felt ten times heavier than normal and it was an extensive effort to get out of bed.

[Reading Voltaire I found this passage: ] ..."most of the boyars slept on planks on which they extended furs or a blanket. These people would have seemed like Spartans if they had been sober."

November 8.

Saw Center Stage's production of True West, by Sam Shepard....I strongly identified with the Austin character--a cautious, diligent writer who craves excitement and adventure.

A poem from November 24.

From barbarous Portland town to golden Danube's stream
Is many miles; one thing alone can mend the seam:

The orchestra--whose sound so gracefully transports
This homesick poet to Vienna's splendid courts.

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