TAYLOR ROSS™|MUSIC

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Woke up at 5:30am, turned my alarm off and went to bed.
In a rush at 7:40am I leaped from comfort to race towards coffee with a friend at 8am.
Running the day before always prevents sleeping, cramps.
Not like I would sleep anyways.
Never can when I want to.
Home around 9:15am
Meandered in thought.

No Articles, No meditation, No yoga, No biking, No running.

Went to the "Goddess Fest" around 11:30am
was nice to walk and be around people, weird people.
Spent an hour and a half just wandering,
Got home,
Wrote in my new notebook,
Web surfing
Started composing at 2pm

Going well,
figuring the specifics at this point;
Rhythmic intricacy,
Getting what is in my head on paper in a form close enough that the poor performer can sort things out themselves,
Its a work more about phrases than pulse,
So there's no barlines and the tempo changes frequently,
Quarter note=62, Dotted Quarter note=76 etc,
in order to avoid the feeling of regularity within the meter.
Worked on it for 2.25 hours.
Then to a meeting at The Boise Institute for Buddhist Studies,

The meditation was on "joy and happiness,"
Guided meditations, psssshhhh.
Let me have my breath.
I'd been thinking about "happiness" all day anyways.
This is what I shared in the meeting after the meditation...
What is happiness? 
What is joy?
I think very mechanically about it all.
Aren't we all just dopamine-seeking fuel-efficient hybrids?
Sure I've got a neutral base-line,
and I definitely scoop below it most days,
but isn't anything called "happiness" just a temporary blip of dopamine thats gets us pushed above the x axis if only momentarily?
Are these seldom and tired moments really worth it for all of this hot gray asphalt?
No matter.
The axe is satisfied in the chopping.
At least when I'm working my craft, the mind is occupied.
And then there's the sense of accomplishment from having created something that was previously nonexistent. 
Brought forth form my inner self,
ripped out,
& formed to a physical standard of being.
As a philosophical hypothetical I'm convinced it's the only reason "god" did any of this, as a distraction from the mundanity of otherwise simply existing. And after deciding they were really ok with just having the weekends and reality t.v. shows, we're given up to collect dust in the garage, like a sentient pickle-ball racket.
The axe is satisfied in the chopping.

I'm not convinced it would be worth it to try to sleep early tonight.
I'm going to do some yoga, meditate silently without the intrusive new-age philosophies, and work on this flute solo for as long as I can bare. Reading is important so I suppose when I get tired I'll switch to that for a while before I admit to the day, "defeat."

The axe is satisfied in the chopping.
What else is there?
I must do my work.

See you tomorrow Lovelies