Warning: not much content—just some musings…

The first page of a new journal… well, not really the first because I tore out the first and gave it to the crazy Tunisian woman. And well, not really a new journal either—a college rule notebook, a request from the states—a temporary until I find a new suitable journal now that I’ve filled the last (I’m a bit picky when it comes to journals). It took me 5 months and 8 days, but for the first time in my life I’ve completely filled a journal. And it’s not that I discriminate against notebooks, but it’s much easier to carry a small journal that fits in a large pocket or a small bag, rather than an 8 1/2 by 11 beast.

The thought of the day: if I didn’t like experimental music so much, I would be a chef. Better yet, a food critic. Or even better still, a food explorer—searching out the best botifarra in Catalunya, the best paella in Valenica, the best Sel de Mer and Dijon in France, the best emmentaler in Switzerland, and on and on.

This comes up because I am in the land of food, and not so much experimental music. What would I search out here in Sevilla—experimental Flamenco?? And this is the beauty and the downfall of places that focus on their history. Experimental music in Sevilla…yeah, not so much. But it is a magical place nonetheless. How to strike a balance between past and present and future? Old and now and new? I’ve noticed that the experimental music coming out of past-dwelling places tends to focus on soundscapes—sounds of a city, sounds of nature, sounds of people, sounds of life—whereas in places not so concerned with their history, or places trying to forget their history (i.e. Berlin), the focus is on created, electronic sounds.

But what a broad category—experimental music! The farther one delves into a world, the larger it becomes!!

Well, this day of traveling has worn me out, and it’s beginning to hurt to think… Time to go home and have vivid and colorful dreams about the hidden treasures and delectable tapas of Sevilla.