(1) It's amazing how you learn (not necessarily in a conscious way) how to incorporate. Last year the neighbours upstairs were driving me quietly - well no, not quietly - mad with their incessant stomping.
Not least the fact that they seemed to feel the need to stomp when getting up for work a good hour or so before my own alarm is set to rouse me from slumber and to utter my first word of the day (usually, "bollocks").
At the time, as annoyed as it made me, I was sure that they just weren't aware of how disturbing this stomping was, and I did my best not to amplify or personalise it. It was difficult though, particularly when 5.30 or 6am came along and *stomp stomp STOMP stompstomp Stomp STOMP*.
I was also aware that they've never complained about my music, which I'm sure can sound very tedious and repetitious when I'm working on a small segment of it for an hour or two (at the moment I'm working on a 20 minute track which uses the same repeating riff throughout), though I always make sure that I'm done by 10pm.
Anyway in recent months I've found that not only am I mostly used to the stomping but, in the case of the early morning stompage, there's something oddly comforting about it. I wake up, hear *stomp stomp STOMP stompstomp Stomp STOMP* and think, "ah, another hour before I have to get up", and usually fall back to sleep until my alarm goes and I utter the inevitable "bollocks!"
It reminds me of someone I knew who slept in a room which faced out onto the main road and thus was continually graced by the noise of traffic and other goings-on. She was relieved to be able to move into a spare room at the back of the house, and then couldn't sleep because the peace and quiet unsettled her.
(2) Sometimes it amazes me how much we carry. How much it's easier to juggle more batons, so to speak, because although there's less respite, there's less time to worry about the individual batons. I occasionally feel like I should panic, but just don't.
(3) One pint of beer feels like two when you're eating healthy food as opposed to stodge.
(4) I'm listening to The Fall. I seem to do that rather a lot.
(5) I play a gig next week. It's 5 months since the last time I played and, while I know precisely where those 5 months have gone, they didn't half go quickly.
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4 comments:
Grew up in Detroit, slept to all kinds of city noise, sirens, boat horns, traffic, other people in an old, squeaky house. When I lived in northern Michigan, in the woods, I could barely sleep for the silence, at first.
Clear conversation, or shouting, will still drag me out of a sound sleep.
Regular sounds can be so comforting. We travel around the country and if something is not quite right, for example, a church bell that chimes every half hour suddenly stops then this can upset a good sleep pattern.
I agree with Zhoen. When moving from a city centre to the country, or in our case the suburds the silence can be deafening.
Hurrah to not panicking! I hate stompy people though...couldn't imagine ever getting used to that. We're coming to London on the 25th, you?
Yes, Zhoen and bikerted, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Meanwhile what I also find very soothing is the sound of a motorway in the middle distance - an ever-present hum signifying the to-ing and fro-ing of people between unknown locations. This was in the background throughout my childhood (in an otherwise fairly rural location).
Deej, I honestly never thought I would get used to such stompery. It's taken a while but it does seem like I can be pretty much ok with it.
As regards the 25th: I can't promise yet, but I'm really hoping to be there.
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