Reversing The Karma
On the first of June I had a lot going on all at once.
The car was tuned up, a break fluid leak was fixed finally, another oil change because the car yet burns oil.
I wanted to drive cross country in the car as if I were the married with children character I write of but everyone talked me out of it.
No one, absolutely no one thought it was a good idea, "Not in that car.", "There is no way to tell (if it will make it)", "Ya don't know what ya gettin' ya self into!", and myself of course knew that the price of gas if nothing else would not make it cost effective.
As romantic as the idea was I booked a flight instead, and this ended up being far more sensible then going on the road straight across to the east coast for a first time.
The other New York friend I mentioned in last month's post showed up and we walked to the beach.
I had already done my own hike earlier in the morning from an early photo shoot but I didn't complain that it was too much. In fact I had no problem with it body or mind. It was adventurous enough to see my friend happy, and to find a few hundred rusted bullet casings on a sand dune on the beach by random chance.
We later went out to see the new Star Trek movie, I was thoroughly disappointed. It all seemed a running gag playing on old trek lines but none of the action or cliff hangers that made the first one good. It had the touch of parental guidance. Somebody must have forced him to do that I kept saying to myself. Common sense seemed to be missing. Who knows maybe I was just in a bad mood?
The next few days seemed uncertain, my cell phone went completely dead. The battery finally burned up. I lost focus on the guitar, maybe because of that very uncertainty that Dave had installed. I took up his advice and bought a second guitar crafting book. I found myself distracted by all that happened on the first to be back in the same bore of a routine. How to proceed with the guitar kept being pushed away with questions I didn't think I could answer alone.
I felt my energy drop, and an increasing amount of stress began to build up.
My grandmother and I argued on and off and this too was depressing.
I wasn't sure how to make her happy and at one point she said, "Not to talk to her today at all."
I could only assume it was cabin fever between the two of us so as soon as she said that I left to the beach till sundown.
I came back without saying too much but gradually the wall between us lifted.
I wanted to meet up with my uncle and jam.
We met up twice that week and we went out to dance that weekend.
It was a strange mix of humor and regret.
For both of us.
It was at some point that first week of June I fell back into writing the draft as a means of a escape.
From the guitar, from the denial, from the unanswered questions that yet remained.
I enjoyed that more than anything else that week.
I decided to go forward writing it knowing that this particular chapter was but a ruse for a darker one.
It felt good to finally see the words on paper, the words I unconsciously remembered from years past.
Another couple of logistical failures on the guitar required me to go looking for a glue pot and a pot warmer for hide glue.
It took about two days to find what I was looking for and by the time I started cooking the glue I was very skeptical that it would just stick like that from hot water and animal skins, Common!
It worked it took a little getting used to but it felt very crafty to see the stuff steam and fuse into this gel.
I was glad I spoke to Dave before I started the process because he recommended using 3 parts water instead of 2 or 1.8 as it says on the label.
I used only one tablespoon of glue and it bonded with the wood like a rose to thorns.
I tested it on a simple dowel I incorrectly sized putting the minimum amount of pressure, came back to it the next morning and it would not separate.
If Dave were ever to read this I would thank him for installing confidence as well as doubt.
The next week I was expected to be somewhere and because of a location change was unable to meet that expectation.
Twice.
Another bondage of frustration maybe because I wanted to see the new building, and I wanted to say something.
Life does not always offer a place to voice frustrations.
Around this time I started falling into a subtle depression I lost energy, I was not thinking about the guitar and yet another social obligation was coming.
I even fell back into gaming for a few hours without thinking.
Something I swore never to devote time to again.
I was ignoring my grandmother and couldn't come to terms with what was next with the guitar.
I was thinking too far ahead again, looking at all negatives none of the positives.
I woke up late twice that second week wondering why I slept so late.
A friend emailed me offering well wishes and reminded me that I was safe and protected, something I certainly have been taking for granted.
My energy slowly revived.
The Guitar Crafting book I ordered had come in and I still found myself distracted.
It was a book of a different tone, something with more detail then the book I read from but less description through imagery.
I skipped over some words knowing that some of the ideas presented didn't apply to the type of guitar I was constructing.
It also made the construction seem much more complicated then it was.
It did offer clarity of how the instrument really works or breathes, speaks and listens.
The history of it still more interesting.
But I had to step away from another book and let what was happening between me and the wood just happen.
The wood had infact started to discolour and became an ugly black.
This too effected my mood, the wood was dying, I knew the answer the moisture in this area was building up where I made the cuts.
In desperation I sanded it, and it did some good.
But uncertainty yet returned this isn't going to work, its gonna break!
With that uncertainty still in place I jumped on the chance to run away to a cousin's highschool graduation.
I drove up to San Francisco making a pit stop in Gilroy for gas and to see if my cell phone's battery could be restored without cost, it couldn't so I didn't bother.
It took longer to leave there then to get there and I had the feeling of being watched.
Traffic built up and I must have been going about 15 miles per hour average.
I made it somehow I think the car knew where it was going more then I did.
I was 5 minutes early and I only found my family an hour into the ceremony.
I was happy to be with them, and it was an interesting way of accepting my own failures as an academic.
I remember now wanting to be honored by my own classmates in high school.
It always seemed like a grandiose pursuit of power through humor.
Always comes the what ifs.
Despite that I gave a small gift to my cousin but it wasn't exactly the perfect gift I had wanted to send.
A short letter, a few dollars.
I wanted to write something deep and profound, include other things that would invoke nostalgia.
But the way life works, sometimes heart does not always meet action.
I drove back home faster then it took me to get there and I enjoyed that driving down Highway 17.
Racing the wind with the gas pedal.
It was the next morning or around then I started saying I need time alone.
I knew my grandmother was heading off for another gambling adventure.
Quietly I looked forward to it.
It would be just me and the guitar.
I wanted one day out of the month when I didn't have to apologize to anyone.
It seemed everyday I had been saying sorry for something.
I finally got that one day, on Saturday and it felt good.
I told myself I wouldn't reflect on things but I did.
I still managed to put together a tool box, and glue the heel for the guitar in those two days she left.
I slept good those two nights shaking off the bad vibes that had built up over the past two weeks.
Towards Sunday I had to dig into the little nest egg I'd saved up.
The rug was pulled from underneath but I had my socks on.
The bandsaw blade broke, the light bulb in the garage finally popped after 20 years, router bits disappeared, and I could anticipate there would be other problems waiting.
I kept saying to myself its just the good karma of the first half of the year turning upside down.
With that in mind I kept working on the guitar in a mad frenzy to have it finished or close enough by the time I left for New York at the end of the month.
It shows because I cut myself twice when cutting and carving.
My grandmother returned happy, she didn't do so good at the Casino but she had yet another gambling adventure waiting on the 20th.
That would give me 3 whole days alone when I could just lock myself in the garage and see it to its conclusion.
I started to get a sense of self induced panic. I wanted the guitar finished so my father and brother could see it back in New York.
But also because of season changes, you generally want to finish any guitar construction the same season you start.
At 30 days into the project I felt I got a lot done but there was still a lot there wasn't done.
I decided to call Dave and see if it was worth it to continue on the neck I'd crafted.
I think he could tell there was something uncertain in my voice.
He wanted to help but I had to breathe again.
There would be time to finish it I told myself, you can relax.
If it was meant to be.
When my grandmother left for the Casino I slowed down and took a more thoughtful approach.
I set on another attempt on gluing the x-braces the following day and I think stepping away from the pressure did a lot of good, the next morning the x-braces were solidly linked.There is plenty undone, the neck needs to be planed to size, the rosette needs to be carved on the soundboard, the x-braces and all the other braces need to be glued down too, The ribs need to be bent, the fretwire needs to be cut and shaped, The fretboard will need to be made, and my headstock needs to be glued to the neck and the holes for the machine tuners drilled and that is only a fraction of it.
That being I spent those 3 days writing, contemplating, cleaning and took a much needed beach day off.
I knew I over reached socially and those solitary days did a whole lot of good.
I got my head back on the ground and the stress eased off.
With the year half over my outlook was a little more uncertain.
The year could end on a good note or I could end up back where I started the year before.
That would suck because I love staying out here and I'd rather not have to come back to New York with my tail between my legs.
That week all seemed ellipsed by the coming New York trip.
I ended up driving to San Fransisco and parking my car at a friend's apartment.
My flight had been delayed and this caused me all kinds of confusion.
I ended up sleeping in the airport thinking I'd lost my wallet.
I wasn't sure what the hell was going on by now.
I was most definitely exhausted and all I wanted was sleep.
In the panic I reported the lost wallet to a security guard on a segway.
"Did you check your whole bag?"
"I thought I did..."
Removing all the contents finding my wallet somehow buried at the bottom.
Well I guess you don't need a detective for that one...I thought.
Finally made it New York the next afternoon.
Spent the following day catching up on sleep that was lost from the flight.
So half the year is over I'm not exactly where I will be with my goals.
I am less optimistic about the next six months.
It can go two ways, it can end on a quietly good note, or it can end badly where a lot of things go completely upside down and worst case scenario I'm back in NY more permanently.
I'll have to be more cautious with spending and try my best to stay the course.
Keepin' it square.
-Astral Samurai
The car was tuned up, a break fluid leak was fixed finally, another oil change because the car yet burns oil.
I wanted to drive cross country in the car as if I were the married with children character I write of but everyone talked me out of it.
No one, absolutely no one thought it was a good idea, "Not in that car.", "There is no way to tell (if it will make it)", "Ya don't know what ya gettin' ya self into!", and myself of course knew that the price of gas if nothing else would not make it cost effective.
As romantic as the idea was I booked a flight instead, and this ended up being far more sensible then going on the road straight across to the east coast for a first time.
The other New York friend I mentioned in last month's post showed up and we walked to the beach.
I had already done my own hike earlier in the morning from an early photo shoot but I didn't complain that it was too much. In fact I had no problem with it body or mind. It was adventurous enough to see my friend happy, and to find a few hundred rusted bullet casings on a sand dune on the beach by random chance.
We later went out to see the new Star Trek movie, I was thoroughly disappointed. It all seemed a running gag playing on old trek lines but none of the action or cliff hangers that made the first one good. It had the touch of parental guidance. Somebody must have forced him to do that I kept saying to myself. Common sense seemed to be missing. Who knows maybe I was just in a bad mood?
The next few days seemed uncertain, my cell phone went completely dead. The battery finally burned up. I lost focus on the guitar, maybe because of that very uncertainty that Dave had installed. I took up his advice and bought a second guitar crafting book. I found myself distracted by all that happened on the first to be back in the same bore of a routine. How to proceed with the guitar kept being pushed away with questions I didn't think I could answer alone.
I felt my energy drop, and an increasing amount of stress began to build up.
My grandmother and I argued on and off and this too was depressing.
I wasn't sure how to make her happy and at one point she said, "Not to talk to her today at all."
I could only assume it was cabin fever between the two of us so as soon as she said that I left to the beach till sundown.
I came back without saying too much but gradually the wall between us lifted.
I wanted to meet up with my uncle and jam.
We met up twice that week and we went out to dance that weekend.
It was a strange mix of humor and regret.
For both of us.
It was at some point that first week of June I fell back into writing the draft as a means of a escape.
From the guitar, from the denial, from the unanswered questions that yet remained.
I enjoyed that more than anything else that week.
I decided to go forward writing it knowing that this particular chapter was but a ruse for a darker one.
It felt good to finally see the words on paper, the words I unconsciously remembered from years past.
Another couple of logistical failures on the guitar required me to go looking for a glue pot and a pot warmer for hide glue.
It took about two days to find what I was looking for and by the time I started cooking the glue I was very skeptical that it would just stick like that from hot water and animal skins, Common!
It worked it took a little getting used to but it felt very crafty to see the stuff steam and fuse into this gel.
I was glad I spoke to Dave before I started the process because he recommended using 3 parts water instead of 2 or 1.8 as it says on the label.
I used only one tablespoon of glue and it bonded with the wood like a rose to thorns.
I tested it on a simple dowel I incorrectly sized putting the minimum amount of pressure, came back to it the next morning and it would not separate.
If Dave were ever to read this I would thank him for installing confidence as well as doubt.
The next week I was expected to be somewhere and because of a location change was unable to meet that expectation.
Twice.
Another bondage of frustration maybe because I wanted to see the new building, and I wanted to say something.
Life does not always offer a place to voice frustrations.
Around this time I started falling into a subtle depression I lost energy, I was not thinking about the guitar and yet another social obligation was coming.
I even fell back into gaming for a few hours without thinking.
Something I swore never to devote time to again.
I was ignoring my grandmother and couldn't come to terms with what was next with the guitar.
I was thinking too far ahead again, looking at all negatives none of the positives.
I woke up late twice that second week wondering why I slept so late.
A friend emailed me offering well wishes and reminded me that I was safe and protected, something I certainly have been taking for granted.
My energy slowly revived.
The Guitar Crafting book I ordered had come in and I still found myself distracted.
It was a book of a different tone, something with more detail then the book I read from but less description through imagery.
I skipped over some words knowing that some of the ideas presented didn't apply to the type of guitar I was constructing.
It also made the construction seem much more complicated then it was.
It did offer clarity of how the instrument really works or breathes, speaks and listens.
The history of it still more interesting.
But I had to step away from another book and let what was happening between me and the wood just happen.
The wood had infact started to discolour and became an ugly black.
This too effected my mood, the wood was dying, I knew the answer the moisture in this area was building up where I made the cuts.
In desperation I sanded it, and it did some good.
But uncertainty yet returned this isn't going to work, its gonna break!
With that uncertainty still in place I jumped on the chance to run away to a cousin's highschool graduation.
I drove up to San Francisco making a pit stop in Gilroy for gas and to see if my cell phone's battery could be restored without cost, it couldn't so I didn't bother.
It took longer to leave there then to get there and I had the feeling of being watched.
Traffic built up and I must have been going about 15 miles per hour average.
I made it somehow I think the car knew where it was going more then I did.
I was 5 minutes early and I only found my family an hour into the ceremony.
I was happy to be with them, and it was an interesting way of accepting my own failures as an academic.
I remember now wanting to be honored by my own classmates in high school.
It always seemed like a grandiose pursuit of power through humor.
Always comes the what ifs.
Despite that I gave a small gift to my cousin but it wasn't exactly the perfect gift I had wanted to send.
A short letter, a few dollars.
I wanted to write something deep and profound, include other things that would invoke nostalgia.
But the way life works, sometimes heart does not always meet action.
I drove back home faster then it took me to get there and I enjoyed that driving down Highway 17.
Racing the wind with the gas pedal.
It was the next morning or around then I started saying I need time alone.
I knew my grandmother was heading off for another gambling adventure.
Quietly I looked forward to it.
It would be just me and the guitar.
I wanted one day out of the month when I didn't have to apologize to anyone.
It seemed everyday I had been saying sorry for something.
I finally got that one day, on Saturday and it felt good.
I told myself I wouldn't reflect on things but I did.
I still managed to put together a tool box, and glue the heel for the guitar in those two days she left.
I slept good those two nights shaking off the bad vibes that had built up over the past two weeks.
Towards Sunday I had to dig into the little nest egg I'd saved up.
The rug was pulled from underneath but I had my socks on.
The bandsaw blade broke, the light bulb in the garage finally popped after 20 years, router bits disappeared, and I could anticipate there would be other problems waiting.
I kept saying to myself its just the good karma of the first half of the year turning upside down.
With that in mind I kept working on the guitar in a mad frenzy to have it finished or close enough by the time I left for New York at the end of the month.
It shows because I cut myself twice when cutting and carving.
My grandmother returned happy, she didn't do so good at the Casino but she had yet another gambling adventure waiting on the 20th.
That would give me 3 whole days alone when I could just lock myself in the garage and see it to its conclusion.
I started to get a sense of self induced panic. I wanted the guitar finished so my father and brother could see it back in New York.
But also because of season changes, you generally want to finish any guitar construction the same season you start.
At 30 days into the project I felt I got a lot done but there was still a lot there wasn't done.
I decided to call Dave and see if it was worth it to continue on the neck I'd crafted.
I think he could tell there was something uncertain in my voice.
He wanted to help but I had to breathe again.
There would be time to finish it I told myself, you can relax.
If it was meant to be.
When my grandmother left for the Casino I slowed down and took a more thoughtful approach.
I set on another attempt on gluing the x-braces the following day and I think stepping away from the pressure did a lot of good, the next morning the x-braces were solidly linked.There is plenty undone, the neck needs to be planed to size, the rosette needs to be carved on the soundboard, the x-braces and all the other braces need to be glued down too, The ribs need to be bent, the fretwire needs to be cut and shaped, The fretboard will need to be made, and my headstock needs to be glued to the neck and the holes for the machine tuners drilled and that is only a fraction of it.
That being I spent those 3 days writing, contemplating, cleaning and took a much needed beach day off.
I knew I over reached socially and those solitary days did a whole lot of good.
I got my head back on the ground and the stress eased off.
With the year half over my outlook was a little more uncertain.
The year could end on a good note or I could end up back where I started the year before.
That would suck because I love staying out here and I'd rather not have to come back to New York with my tail between my legs.
That week all seemed ellipsed by the coming New York trip.
I ended up driving to San Fransisco and parking my car at a friend's apartment.
My flight had been delayed and this caused me all kinds of confusion.
I ended up sleeping in the airport thinking I'd lost my wallet.
I wasn't sure what the hell was going on by now.
I was most definitely exhausted and all I wanted was sleep.
In the panic I reported the lost wallet to a security guard on a segway.
"Did you check your whole bag?"
"I thought I did..."
Removing all the contents finding my wallet somehow buried at the bottom.
Well I guess you don't need a detective for that one...I thought.
Finally made it New York the next afternoon.
Spent the following day catching up on sleep that was lost from the flight.
So half the year is over I'm not exactly where I will be with my goals.
I am less optimistic about the next six months.
It can go two ways, it can end on a quietly good note, or it can end badly where a lot of things go completely upside down and worst case scenario I'm back in NY more permanently.
I'll have to be more cautious with spending and try my best to stay the course.
Keepin' it square.
-Astral Samurai
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