All posts by adam@adamsatinsky.com

everyday observations

Pontoon

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I probably shouldn’t begin a blog at this ripe hour, but it’s been so long that I thought I’d at least give it a whirl. Hmm. C’mon, brain, do something. I have observed that I can have the kernel of an idea form in my mind, but to extract it out of its little corner is perhaps overly difficult. It feels like the parts of my brain in charge of different mental processes don’t know how to work with one another. Like the links between them have been zapped or something. It’s almost as if I’ve done drugs. I think I’ve avoided doing them specifically for just such risks. How annoyingly ironic.
I’ve been baking. That is a fun pastime. And tasty. I’ve been discovering the beauty of Teflon.

Maybe I should just sleep on it. I have been journaling privately. I start out writing letters to abusers, but it ends up being a more general sort of exploration of ideas. It’s a good place to springboard from, though. Nice and pithy, I think. A good way to get the old shovel out and start digging around in the graveyard of my mind.

Okay.

originally published on 10/10/08

reflections within

Limb

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I’m now trying to monitor my food intake more diligently. I’ve even started going to a support group of sorts for this purpose. I’ve met some nice people in the process. It’s one of the 12-step groups. I’ve had some experience with other ones but took a hiatus for a while to explore other philosophical approaches to my instabilities, only to return when they became ineffectual. I have a nice array of addictive and compulsive options in my repertoire, so it helps not to be overly worried if I am having a good day (or week) with my dietary situation. I can always apply the steps to some other vice.
Actually a lot of the steps don’t pertain to the chosen addiction, but rather to one’s life story and the not-such-nice things one may have a propensity to do to oneself and others. These correlate to the steps which designate some kind of higher power, helping to remind us that we are not all-knowing or all-powerful. To keep us humble.

Humility is actually kind of a cool thing. But hard to sustain, as it turns out.

originally published on 1/21/09

hypotheses and philosophies

Millview

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Driven to distraction. There’s a funny expression. Maybe I should research its derivation. It might have something to do with the alliteration. It seems to presume that one’s natural state is non-distraction, which one leaves after some unpleasantries. I suppose it can happen that way. But I think life goes more frequently in the opposite direction. You reach the end of your distracted rope, thereby having no alternative but to find some kind of peace of mind and soul.
Or maybe distraction is considered a good thing in our society, and in this statement. You are driven there due to the evilness of boredom and peacefulness. Non-action is a risky thing.

There’s a fine line between doing things as an act of expression or a means of distraction. It’s easiest not to even know that there’s a difference. I think this non-awareness leads naturally to mindlessness and boredom. But if you are more attentive to your environment, you’ll find you do have a choice. A choice between doing things just for the sake of doing them, or engaging in an act of creation.

originally published on 6/28/09

everyday observations

Barn Surgery

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Haven’t posted for a while. Hope you’ve muddled without. I have a new diet. Eat until your stomach starts protruding, then stop. Seems easy, right? This came to me in the midst of back spasm hell. I realized that my back has to hold up my stomach at all times, not just in between meals. Somehow I thought it didn’t count at the moment of eating. The post-meal big stomach was a necessary anomaly, I figured. It is not reflective of the true state of things. But I know the truth now. And I have a 15 pound weight-loss to drive it home.
I got into breathing last night. It appears to be a good thing. Of course you can have too much of a good thing. But it’s nice to be reminded of the centrality of breathing. How many muscles does it encompass? Umpteen. Maybe all. Including the muscles of the mind. I can overfocus on it, of course. I have to remember that it is both a causative and responsive reflex action. In other words, it can both create the looseness in the body and be a result of good body focusing. I should feel at liberty to play with that. Not get stuck in one direction.

I got a crock pot. I’ve even used it.

originally published on 5/30/10

everyday observations

Mellifluous

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Why is it that in the middle of a shower I get the urge to go work out, thus negating the shower? And why do I want to sleep in when I must get up but arise early when I have no obligations? How deep do my contrarian tendencies go? I used to think it was optional, just something I could put on to help differentiate myself from the crowd. But then, why did I want to differentiate myself? Why was that important to me? It must have had some deeper underpinnings.
It happens to me all the time, really. And it’s annoying when I would actually like to accomplish something. I have to play cat and mouse with my urges. I must outwit them in order to achieve a goal. If I want to answer a non urgent-business email, somewhere inside I need to be planning to do something totally unrelated to writing. Then there’s hope of me doing what is opposite. Same is true for working out, unless I’ve somehow embedded it into my routine at the moment. But even my routines have to be interpreted as contrary to something else to stick to them.

My stomach tells me it’s already full when it’s time for Thanksgiving dinner, but eat aplenty when I really shouldn’t. My arms start aching when it’s time for a concert, but feel great when I don’t have any upcoming performances. See how deep and visceral it is? It’s not something easily accepted either, because it’s inherently opposite to the natural course of events. My mind is trying to follow and shape my life path, but my insides are making all sorts of detours.

It’s like I live inside a magnet or a rubber band. I’m being pushed and pulled along by an unseen North Pole or puppeteer pulling an opposite-handed string. Sometimes I think it’s my soul’s way of keeping me in a homeostatic state, keeping me centered in a way. Perhaps that’s the good side of it. So maybe I should learn to give in to the North or South Poles and let them do what they’re apt to do anyway, without intrusion from my conscious self. I do not really know what percentage of consciousness versus unconsciousness is really my favorite. It’s a fluctuating thing which is not exactly under my control, but I can tell when it’s out of whack, I guess.

This blog affects that balance. Writing affects it. As does psychotherapy. They both seemingly merge the conscious and unconscious in a smooth way. You can keep track of the intricacies of the merging process there. But again, it requires either outsmarting or randomly falling into the correct circumstance to get to this place of symmetry.

originally published on 12/5/10

hypotheses and philosophies

And

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Contrarianism has a close cousin, procrastination. They are easily interchanged and mixed up. Waiting for the last minute to do something is akin to doing it when it really can’t be done well anymore, at a time that it really shouldn’t be done in the first place. But for the contrarian/procrastinators among us, sometimes doing something at a late date is still a far cry better than never doing it at all.
Of course I sometimes have a tendency to do things way too soon and too fast. It’s the flip side to procrastinating. So perhaps being a contrarian causes extremism in many cases. You’re sort of required to tap into the extremes, in order to get to the desired opposing feeling.

It’s just a lot of hoops to jump through. And I’ve been a little busy lately with actual life to accommodate these propensities in the way that I used to.

originally published on 12/5/10

everyday observations

Buster

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Tonight Cody almost gingerly flipped through the pages of my Wicked paperback for a good 10 minutes. He had no interest in stopping, either, when I hinted at him lying down to sleep. It was pretty extraordinary, considering how recently he has been destroying Dr. Seuss baby board books and the like, either by chewing or attempting a reversal of the binding. I was wondering if his respectful page turning has something to do with observing the way I handle the book when I am reading it both aloud to him and silently. People do remark on his observational bent, although they don’t always interpret it as such. It can come across to some as a somber, slightly aloof affect. But if you spend enough time with him, you see that he displays that gaze when there’s something worthy of study.
He seemed to appreciate having a TV dinner-esque meal fed to him tonight. When he would tire of one item, I luckily (from some bit of experience) had other options ready at the offing. He ate samplings of Khwan’s fried rice with salmon and egg; her couscous with tomato, ground pork, onions, cilantro, and other savories; some apple blueberry sauce; and Liberte strawberry yogurt. This was all washed down with intermittent sips of water, which he kindly doesn’t spit out boxer-style anymore, and of course his favorite propranolol dose. His eating preferences are an interesting moving target, changing as he grows. Of course he is also a moving target since we’ve stopped bothering with his high chair now with his recent deep hatred of confinement of any sort.

originally published on 7/30/11

hypotheses and philosophies

Why, oh why

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The cello is a way for me to exhibit me, both to my own eyes and to others. I’m equally unpredictable musically as in real life. I am now surmising that most everything is equivalent. I was not trained to think that. But that doesn’t make it irrelevant.
When I play the cello I am thinking about and feeling the same series of ideas and sensations as in regular life. Why shouldn’t I be? Any energy I am exerting to heal myself is just as easily directed to music-making. And anything misdirected in real life also falls short on the cello. I have always suspected that but I have never received solid confirmation from outside myself, so I couldn’t take it seriously due to my difficulty individuating myself from others. Are some things the problem and the solution simultaneously? I can’t individuate, but I must.

The important aspect of this is how I apply this learning theory to my music. I need to be sensitive to how my feelings reflect in my performance. It’s all in there if I listen for it. If I am feeling unfulfilled, for instance, I will create music in a stifled way. But it’s not even that simple. Because like life, the music is in flux. The emotional journey and processes are more reflective than a momentary mood swing. It is trickier and subtler than what I might consider my surface state of mind.

originally published on 12/19/06

cello practice

Of Dove

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I practiced last week. I wanted to do some honing after hearing pristine violin playing the other week. It works, funnily enough, that practicing stuff. But I find it also carries with it a risk factor in orchestra, that being over-fatigue. But now I see that that is only in the short term. Over a few weeks as of yet, it is becoming easier to play. I tactily know where I’m headed on the instrument, and I’m mentally less second-guessy and trepidatious. But this typing is a killer.

originally published on 3/2/07

cello practice

Lars

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I’ve been trying to lighten up – with my left hand, that is. I listen to Itzhak Perlman and watch his videos, and there is such a relaxed, easy approach he takes. I don’t see the lack of effort doing him any harm, certainly, and it is probably quite beneficial. When I loosen up my vise grip it doesn’t always give me the sound that I am striving for. I believe that once I get used to this freer, gentler sound, it won’t bother me anymore. It also seems that by concentrating on my left arm, there is a spiraling effect to the rest of my body, and my mind, too. It’s almost as if I have made one spot the focal point for all of the tension simmering within me, and if I let that go, everything else falls away, too, like a domino effect.

originally published on 8/4/07