Over the river and through some woods...to my West Ashley house I go! So many times I'm eternally grateful for the peaceful solitude of my woodsy habitat that it nearly balances out my yearning for hustle and bustle and the infernal interconnectedness of city life. I remember studying the great school composers in Undergrad and marveling how the Paris Cafe's spawned such genius across artistic genres and mediums while Papa Haydn wrote all by his lonesome on some isolated patron's estate yet managed to stay current with his peers -- and all this before the internet and cell phones!
I am far removed from Haydn's seclusion, given that I have a cable modem, IPhone and working 4 wheel drive vehicle that can brave most Downtown floodwaters; yet, I fail to "stay in the loop" of current artistic events, happenings, potlucks, etc.. that spread like wildfire through the central neighborhood grapevines.
I miss the forced connections of juxtaposed apartments and the privacy-less duplex; the impromptu dinner in with friends across the street; porch talk late into the night because you only have to walk home; brisk bike rides in and out of misting showers because a dry pair of pants is less than five minutes away; the convenience of collaboration; sidewalks, sidewalks, sidewalks.
I don't miss neighbors scraping furniture overhead and the like when I'm blissfully dozing at home between the hours of 6am and 9am when a large portion of the world starts moving; apologizing for practicing at 2am because inspiration bit me like a freshly hatched mosquito and I HAD to make something from it...; the quietness of my street so that I can easily hear my thoughts no louder than a whisper.
Is the answer at my fingertips? Will the majority of my conversations morph into G-chats, texts and phone calls? Have I traded serenity for socialization? ...oops, that might be my ID typing.
...Either way, there is a lesson about myself to be learned. And in this economy, I can't have it completely both ways. I consider my mortgage a subscription to a very posh Meditation/Rejuvenation Center...and my driver's liscense, my key to the bustling world of Big Town/Small City life.
Meanwhile, I'm gonna make like Papa Haydn and go tap into the collective creative consciousness from the peace and quiet of my country bed.
Goodnight All.
MB Disco
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