What a week it’s been! Between making every effort not to get sick and manage to fully and cheerfully meet all manner of obligations, things have been very intense.

I just got back from seeing Amiina and Tom Brosseau in concert, more on which tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill-health.
There is no way to escape having ill-health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and every one I love are of the nature to change.
There is no way to escape being separated from them.

I inherit the results of my actions in body, speech, and mind.
My actions are the ground on which I stand.

— The Five Remembrances

Time for some Spring workflow cleaning. This is now my third year as a freelancer, and I’ve got a much better idea of what I need versus what I thought I needed.

I’ve also got to get this year’s business purchases prioritized; thanks to magic tax mojo I pretty much have to invest in my infrastructure even if I don’t need to, else Uncle Sam takes it. This sounds like a lot of fun, but after a while it becomes a bit of a challenge to justify getting something when you’ve got a perfectly good _______ lying around already.

I’m looking for a new project timer application for OS X. The one I’m using, Project Timer Pro, is not bad at all, but starting to get long in the tooth. If anyone has any suggestions, please drop me a line.

I’ve not been feeling all that well this weekend, but with luck my health will hold. There is much to do.

Saturday V and I ventured downtown to watch 300. In the Boston Common opposite the theater there happened to be a gathering of war protesters. Since we were early, we strolled through the park for a while, taking in the atmosphere of the day.

The energy outside was anything but peaceful; in some ways it was much more aggressive than in the theatre, where all sorts of artistry were being focused toward creating war, where I could practically feel the hooks pulling at my testosterone. I think I understand why there was anger, and there’s a lot to be angry about. Around here, the Transgressions of the State has almost surpassed the weather, sports, and celebrity gossip as default watercooler talk. You can almost hear the dollar sign when some people pronounce “Bu$h.”

As we took our constitutional the words of the rally’s speakers wafted across the Common. We’d get words sometimes, but the tone was always clear, and it was one of violence. Violence and hate against the perpetrators of violence and hate. Enforcing peace through righteous anger.

This is my dilemma; I support the cause on Saturday, but feel that the method in some ways subverts the cause. If one truly wishes for peace, to convince another person to settle his grudge with another person or group, then one must not have the fire of anger in ones own heart. I just can’t see “I will be angry with you until you stop being so goddamned aggressive, dickwad” actually working to create any lasting peace. In the much pithier words of the Buddha: “Never by hatred is hatred appeased, but it is appeased by kindness. This is an eternal truth.”

The Common was saturated with policemen on horses, bicycles, motorcycles, car, and foot, ready in case the peace protest got out of hand.

I am now left with a question — how to work for peace in the spirit of peace; not theoretically, but in my own life, right now. This war is taking a huge toll on our country, and on our world, and the anger and hatred on all sides will continue to burn brighter. This was a lot to take away from an afternoon when I was just expecting to see guys poke each other with spears, but if don’t take what life gives you, what do you have?

Anja returned to the states after spending a month in Bodh Gaya, India, working with Dalit Women Power to help improve conditions. Bodh Gaya is the place where the historical Buddha was enlightened over 2500 years ago, and she brought me a small carved stone Buddha.

Living conditions in this part of India aren’t very good; children beg for scraps of food, and packs of dogs roam the streets at night. She told me a story about a dying water buffalo that had been hit by a car, lying by the side of the road, entrails spilling out. People had piled up fresh grass near its mouth for it to eat.

The stone Buddha is beautiful, and it will always remind me of the koan of the water buffalo.

This morning I had a phone conversation with one of the Zen monastics regarding an art practice assignment for the ongoing Ango. How can I approach music, something I’m so heavily conditioned and trained in, in the context of Zen?

I don’t have a clear answer, and even talking about the content of the conversation is elusive. But it really was a useful conversation. Writing about Zen is fiendishly difficult for me; even writing about why it’s difficult is a challenge. I’ll do my best as I go along this path.*

*Be assured, this is not a uncommon complaint.

Winter is finally ceding to Spring; the snow on the ground is melting, and the sun shines brightly, and plants are starting to cautiously bloom.

I drove out to Cape Ann this morning to pick up a sculpture, and lingered for a while to take pictures. Like the plants, Rockport is starting to bloom again as tourist season nears, and it was a pleasure to observe its progress. As always, the Atlantic is so very beautiful.

My compliments and gratitude to Orlando Cela and the Willow Flute Ensemble — last night’s premiere of Indra’s Net was very well done. The performance was excellent, and the piece generated some good discussion from both the performers and the audience. The piece is now alive in people’s ears and minds, and that’s the best thing a composer can ask for.

The entirety of the program, highlights for me being a suite of Romanian Folk Dances, and Soundings II by David Keberle, which flowed like water.

A final thank you to Varia and Leaf for braving the ice and snow to support me.

There’s a blizzard heading our way. A few little tidbits:

Concert tomorrow, including Indra’s Net. I’m only averaging one live performance every two years these days, so it’s a big deal for me, not to mention mighty exciting!

The viol consort Long & Away has a new website up, using some of my photography. It’s worth a look.

I’m giving away some of my books using Bookmooch. It’s a great system; you send a book, you get a credit to get someone to send one to you. Knowing that it’s going to someone who actually wants to read it is very satisfying.

Today is the memorial of the assassination of Caesar in 44 BC. Say what you want about him, but that guy could attack Gallic formations, machinate politically, and make a mean salad.

Last night’s rehearsal went very well; the realization of Indra’s Net was in some ways more than I’d hoped as the individual performers took it to heart and breathed life into the piece. The one thing I wasn’t sure about was the overall timing, but after a few runs it seems to settle around 8 minutes. Sitting in the middle of the arc of flutes felt like being immersed in a flute bath, warm and resonant. For those in the Boston area, concert information is available if you’re interested in attending.

More rehearsal photographs can be found here.

Indra’s Net is all set to go, the rehearsal is tomorrow.

The difference between what’s going on and what I think should be going on is nothing less than suffering*. It’s not a matter of the specific what, it’s a how. It’s the process.

*Even though I’ve written “suffering” the word here should really be the Pali word dukkha, which also incorporates other concepts such as impermanence, imperfection, and sorrow.

It’s been a good day, and a good week, challenging in some ways, and entirely easy in others. I’m exhausted and feel like I could sleep for days on end, but I’m certain that one solid night will do wonders.

I am grateful for all of the wonderful people in my life.