that feeling...

that feeling is here.. where I can't be motivated to do anything. I eat chocolate. and I sleep.

If I get fat, people... you'll know that you have been too late.

recognition

sometimes it feels like if I didn't exist no-one would notice. honestly, even my closest friends make me feel like this sometimes. That is when it hurts the most.

Take for example my work at college. I have battled very hard to be acknowledged as being part of this one committee all year. I have done a lot of work coordinating music for the committee, and trying different things..but the whole time, the leader did not acknowledge my participation.

Why am I so driven for acknowledgement? My purpose for getting things done and helping people, isn't for the personal gratification which comes from being publicly acknowledged. But I think there is a certain amount of respect that goes with being acknowledged. Why can't my friends thank me for doing things for them? Why can't they seek me out when I am not feeling the best? Why can't they see that I feel empty?

More importantly... who have I not acknowledged?
Life is so hard.

injustice - how do you react?

While sitting in the caf tonight eating an oversized hamburger, I heard a lot of noise coming from the table behind me. Glancing over at my friends on my table I saw a half eaten, deep fried, artificial potato scollap projectile into the lap of one girl on the end, obviously coming from our noisy neighbours. Turning around to see where the potatoey goodness came from, I listened out for the usual 'sorry' from the playful group. It didn't come. They just kept giggling.
'How about a sorry mate', I said to the closest guy on the table.
'How about a f**k off', was his gentle reply.
'Excuse me?' I said in a confused state. It was like an unexpected sforzando.
'How about a f**k off'.
No comment. Or maybe there was an awkward squeak from my mouth, or was that just my internal sense of logic screaming from confusion.
It was obviously very uncalled for. But not as bad as what followed.

I turned around to continue my dinner, a little shaken, as my friend asked the guy to watch his language. Obviously I looked like I could use a nice bit of yoghurt all over me, because from over my shoulder came a creamy, mango flavoured culture which rested on my shoulder and all over the person sitting across from me. In an unconsious effort to thank him for this kind gesture, I turn and looked at him questioningly.
'You just hit her', I said, relatively flabbergasted.
He looked me in the eye and stuck his finger up, obviously to indicate that he had injured it during the ordeal. And just to prove that his aiming wasn't as bad as first indicated, he happily emptied the rest of the yoghurt all over my neck and walked away.

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At the piano I sat playing my latest creation.
'I would love to get a string quartet to play this, what do you you reckon?' I ask my friend who wanders into the room at that time, greeting me with a smile.
'Andy, you should put words to it and get the Octet to sing it'.
The idea resonated clear around my mind. It was be such a privalege to put words to an a capella composition of my own and to have my own singing group perform it. Imagine the rush of hearing it for the first time. I couldn't wait to tell the group director about it.

I chose liturgical text and busily got around to writing my first Requiem. This was a joy that I have experienced a few times since as I endeavoured to write a yet unfinished Requiem Mass. My plan was to have the Octet sing it and for me to learn about the way certain chords sound together so I could develop my skills in the process.

I was sure that my director would relish the idea of performing and potentially recording a composition by a member of the group. So I told him about it. He was more than encouraging, and showed great interest in the idea. So I printed up copies of the music and distributed them and awaited the time when he would start the group practising it. Time past, and the prospect of recording a CD came into the picture. I was sure that we could record my Requiem, and suggested it to our director and again he showed a great amount of interest.

As we neared the recording date, the weeks were moving quickly and we still hadn't even touched my requiem yet. I asked him about it. He said that we would still record it and look at it soon.

Now, I am not the kind of person to push my talents forward. It makes me sick to think that someone might think that I am self-seeking in things that I do like this. So I didn't push the director too hard to get us practising the song. He promised, so I figured that it would get done.

Finally the date the of recording period was upon us. The song has been sung by the group only on a few occasions and was definately NO WHERE near recording stage. As I recorded my solo piece, the rest of the group went away and worked with our director on my requiem. (I think my annoyance at this point was obvious). To make matters worse, when they returned, my director had completely changed the harmonic structure of one of my favourite sections, saying that 'he didn't like it'.

It goes without much guessing that the song didn't make it onto the CD. Through the broken promises, and lack of respect for a work written by one of the members specifically for the members it basically left one bitter and dis-heartened composer.

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Why do I tell you these things? I just want you to think about how you would react in these situations. Would you react in violent anger? Would you say nothing? Should the people who behave so injustly be taught a lesson? Would the lesson be taught with violence or yelling?

How do you think I reacted?

life

man, life and relationships are interesting... kinda hard not to get discouraged sometimes..

suit day

well, it is that time again. The day where the weakest and strongest, malest and femalest, tallest and shortest can unite as one to wear suits! Yes... SUITS!

This time-honoured tradition arcs back to the beginning of Avondale history, where the men from Watson hall and the women from Andre, Bethel and Preston would meet secretly to sip hot chocolate and dance all night long in their birthday suits. (Note: Of course, this is only folk history and changes from person to person, so don't be surprised if you hear another version.)To commemorate this occasion, generations on, students from Ella Boyd Hall and Watson spend the day in the luxury of suits made from less natural fibres.

The day embraces freedom and gender equality and should be accompanied by a joyous frollick through the grass and sips of adult hot chocolate.

stages

I LOVED pre-school. I remember when I got to kindergarten the first day. I thought I would HATE it.. but I started playing with some other kids and my mum left without me even noticing.

When I was in primary school, I didn't want to leave. I LOVED year 6. I was the school captain, and loved being comfortable in the my surroundings. I loved the responsibility and the small amound of freedom it gave me. I loved the way the school worked, and how I could walk to school. I did not want to go to high school. I dreaded it... I thought 'nothing could be as good as this.. no way'.

When I was got to high school, I was scared. I had to catch the bus to school every day with all these older kids. My class (7 Rasp I think.. top class) was really wierd. I wasn't used to being with such a wide variety of kids from all different groups and different source schools with so few friends in my class. I remember realising how great the food was at the canteen. I mean, they sold chocolate eclairs in the canteen. How cool is that? And we could buy whatever hot food without ordering (gone were the days of early morning ordering at the canteen, and ending up with a mini pie and sauce every lunchtime because you couldn't decide what you would feel like 4 hours after you paid for it). As I grew up through the years, I just LOVED the freedom that we were allowed. The uniforms were not strict and in year 11 and 12 we could wear jeans. The structure of this school was such that it had 3 levels quite compactly arranged (with no windows, I might add...will explain that sometime) with large open walkways between departments. The seniors students are given the added benefit of OWNING the whole top level of the school during lunchtimes. From being basically told to stop loitering around the building during beak times, we were given the kings keys.. As seniors students we were allowed to leave the school whenever we wanted with little question....and did I mention the jeans. Who would want to leave this? Ended my career as dux which was a huge accomplishment in my books.. Again, as far to the top of a pile as I could get, before the inevitable drop to the bottom again...

College. More freedom, fantastic experiences, and heaps of fun times. My influence in the college has grown since I have been here. Have worked my way again to nearing the top of this pile.. well, as far as I would like. ASFA council, student worker aggreement committee, loans trust committee, SAM music coordinator, Graduation committee, head Teaching Materials Centre (library) worker to name some... These committees are HARD work.. and have taken most of my time for the last couple of years. It is actually really hard to move from the ignorant and complacent student, completely unaware of the politics going on, to being right in the thick of things and see how much it sucks. Truly, ignorance is bliss.. These have definately been the BEST years of my life. Better than preschool, better than primary or highschool by a long shot.. But that time has come again.. how could I leave this?

I have reached the end of a stage. I have always thought..'i have school, then college, then life'.. well... I guess that means that live begins. How scary! what is life but an ocean....sparce, seemingly endless, lonely?. Where have the markers gone? What is there to look forward to? how am I going to subdivide my time?

I am begining a new stage next year. My natural instinct is to be scared by the change. But my history tells me to trust... and to take the jump and it will be better than ever imaginable.

Watch... I'm gonna jump.

the name

Amadeus - I use this name for a number of things, MSN included. It reminds me of the creative spirit in me. Amadeus is one of Mozart's christian names. Mozart is among my favourite composers...he is known for his mastery and power over melody. His works just ring with singable melodies, and beautiful harmonies. Of course he is not the only great composer. He lived in between two of the most beautiful musical periods of all time. His works are reminiscent of the Baroque notions of Handel and Vivaldi, and look forward to the soaring melodies and expressiveness of the Romantic period. The simplicity yet complexity of his works astound me.

His name reminds me of walking through the streets of Salzbourg and Vienna. Visiting the palaces and churches where his music was performed in Austria and in France. Seeing the house where he was born. I get taken back to my Europe trip where I was first exposed to the beauty of music - and fell in love with the Baroque and Classical periods. I remember standing in Handel's house in London and just realising 'this is real!.. this actually happened!!'.It was insane.

It has inspired me to compose and take power over music...and sculp it into something beautiful. Truly inspired by the magic of Amadeus.

The created - learning about the creative process, i value so much more the meaning that is given to a creation when you realise that it was actually CREATED. I discovered while in Europe that just a glimpse of the lives of these composers brought this MUSIC alive to me. It gave the music such a vitality and purpose. I could see why it was composed and how much we should rever this process. Makes me realise, hey, I am created! You have been created. So value lies in all of us.

These two words/phrases just remind me of the purpose and passions of my life.

A friendly reminded that I have purpose. And so do you..

the question I want to leave is... what is your purpose?

so...blogging hey?

I have finally decided to start a blog page.. yay for that. I have heaps of thoughts and randomness that I should write down. And people who care can read it and tell me how insane I am. This little fella here is just a trial post to see how this page works. I'm sure its not that complicated.