Last train to Lhasa

Last night was my Friday night. Tonight was my Saturday.

I rode up to the UT campus both nights to enjoy the remainder of the warm weather. The seasons are definitely changing, but I'd personally like it to stay around 95 all year :) There's not much better than sweating, methinks :D

Fall's been riding a Canadian wind through the state the last few days. After I crossed the Congress bridge last night, a stiff wind ripped through the buildings between 2nd and 4th and almost blew me off my bike. I pulled onto the sidewalk to face directly into it and felt just like a dog with its head out the window of a moving car. It was nice.

I took my usual route around the capitol building and along the Blanton Museum before weaving around the campus streets. It's good to see people back up there. It starts to feel desolate in the summer, a little like the stereotypical desert everyone thinks exists in the middle of Texas. It's nice going up there infrequently because I continue to find new, increasingly awesome parts of the campus I've never seen before... that and I enjoy getting lost.

So last night I came across an absolutely huge stone plaza somewhere to the East of the tower. I rode around and picked out the magnolia tree I'd most like to climb should I get the chance. And the moon reminded me of Cairo.

The plaza was about 200 yards long and 50 yards across with two lawns on either side of the main stone esplanade. It overlooked a long row of academic buildings straddling yet another vast mall rolling down a big hill. The lights illuminating the tower behind me were so strong that they cast a watery, ambient glow across the stone surface. The old oak and magnolia trees surrounding the plaza were busy dancing in the wind and sending the season's confetti across the shiny view. The big moon over the grass mall seemed pinned to the sky behind a thin, dirty and humid haze that was being whipped around violently with a mess of oak leaves.

Billie Holiday and I hung out there for a little while on the stone before I started back. I was hungry and stopped for some lasagna on the way. It's never too late for lasagna.

Today, I took my time and made my very comfortable way until I went back to the campus for the Bach concert. There were so many bikes on the roads tonight. It was amazing. I rode North with a super sweet "Julie" who apparently handles VA stuffs for the university. She was pretty and I was hungry, a terrible combination. I kept riding with her into the bowels of Hyde Park just to see where it would go (figuratively, literally).

It's a little known fact that up around Speedway and 30 something there are about 40 square blocks that are actually spinning on a giant, mechanical lazy susan. No matter the direction you're going when start, you'll always be heading somewhere else when you leave. Up turns into down and left into right. Everyone switches their nouns and verbs and... it's just a scary place.

Julie completely called me on my geographic ignorance and politely told me the fastest way to Wheatsville. We parted ways and I certainly wouldn't mind running into her again.

I slammed the vegan frito pie at the newly renovated Wheatsville co-op just as the clouds were rolling in. My full stomach and I made it to the concert hall just before the thunder. The storm lasted for about 20 minutes and it was a good dousing by anyone's standards. I stayed outside and watched the clouds until they turned blue again. I did have a book, but rain has generally been just as exciting as the circus for me.

In my opinion, almost any performance at the Bates recital hall is a good show. Growing up in Houston, I was exposed to a really great Arts program. There were Parisian ballerinas in The Nutcracker and all kinds of people playing with the Houston Symphony Orchestra.

Regardless the musical program, I'm a sucker for raw sound in a concert hall. I'll listen to someone whistle and play the spoons on stage for an hour and a half just so I can listen to the acoustics bounce around. I prefer headphones for my music typically. But classical music should really be heard in an auditorium built for sound.

The performance was brilliant and the musicians outstanding. I reached nirvana and Bach does not suck. I burned home and the streets had already dried.

Now I'm tired and have a little lasagna left. I also have an urge to watch something by Akira Kurosawa.

Three little birds, each by my doorstep... singin' sweet songs of melodies pure and true...

>> "Last Train to Lhasa" by Banco De Gaia