Today is the rare kind of day, in which all of my so-called meta-careers were in action all at once. It was the kind of day which made me appreciate the varied paths I take, and at the same time jealous of people who sit in offices.
It began at the very reasonable hour of 8:30am with a fiendish rush to prepare sevaral film-demo CDs, while pretending to have a leisurely breakfast with Inna. (Breakfast is holy.) Alas, our new printer does a hackjob at printing double-sided, so everything took 4x longer, and had to be reprinted 10x… I chomped on oatmeal and slurped coffee in between flipping pages.
At 10, I was supposed to have been at a rehearsal by Ensemble 212 for my composition Long Island Sound, which we’ll be performing this Saturday evening. With much debt to the printing fracas, I was 20 minutes late. No matter, though, we rehearsed my piece (even though the bass, viola, and percussionists were missing) all the same. It was a weird feeling, playing a piece I wrote 9 years ago, seemingly a world removed from what I’m doing now. The ensemble’s bassoonist asked what the piece was about – ABOUT?! — so now I have to come up with a story, put myself in 9-year-old shoes. I stayed at the rehearsal until 12:45, filling in for the other violist who didn’t show up. But then I had to run…
At 12:50, I had to run to a bowmaker, to get my bow rehaired. Hadn’t done that for a few months, seeing as I split so few hairs in Hungary.
At 1 and at 2:30, I had two meetings about potential film projects. The first was on a park bench; the second in a trendy cafe in midtown. Both meetings went great. Between meetings, I caught up on email, in the subway. After the meetings, I ran into Chipotle for a salad. Succulent…
At 4, I had to be at a rehearsal in Queens with the wonderfully openminded percussionist Ingrid Gordon and the happy-go-wacky reed performer Demetrius Spaneas, in preparation for a couple of upcoming concerts. I was late to this, too – but it didn’t matter. We rehearsed my pieces, experimented with instrumentation, and chatted. For 3 hours, time stopped – well, until I got some frantic emails from London about a transcription project I’m doing, and from an ad agency about a demo.
At 7:20, I was back on the subway, writing emails and trying to keep my back straight. There’s nothing quite as fun as taking three trains on the way home, and cursing the MTA while waiting for them. There’s nothing quite as delightful as knocking over hipsters who can’t hear “Excuse me” because their iPods are too loud. If there is any saving grace in the subway, it’s the Chinese cellist who seems to play “Air on the G String” continuously. But he wasn’t there today – instead, there was a drummer. Argh.
By 8:30 I was home. Luckilly, at least my home will be quieter, because earlier today, six of these diffusor panels arrived, and I’ll be installing them tomorrow. I still have a million things to do – figure out housing in Los Angeles, order plane tickets, clean up, pay bills, and — oh yes – finish sorting the receipts for taxes.
After a day of this, who’d want to listen to avant-garde music? Certainly not me. All I want is a hot bath and a long sleep.
well, that’s entertainment! Strike up the Carousel Waltz. 🙂