Pastor sent us an email with a link to the recorded service and reported that 12 people attended this morning. This was more than I expected. I’m glad I didn’t go. Too many rules and regulations due to coronavirus made a mockery of worship service. And again, I don’t go to church for the God stuff. I’ve changed a great deal since a year ago. Seven months ago I had that conversation with Tim at Black Rock cafe. He said I had become part of the family and people depended on me. Also, D— was concerned about my crisis of faith; but I had already known that about her, based on the nasty card she gave me for Christmas three years ago. All that time I was recovering from alcoholism and not very astute for a while. I don’t remember a lot of things that happened in church because I was barely conscious.
Quarter after two. The sun 🌞 has come out and the sky mostly cleared up. I feel like buying myself a present. Yesterday I browsed the Norton anthologies on Amazon and found a few nice ones. Or I could buy Aesop a nice meaty bone 🍖 just for the fun of it… I ordered a six pack of bones for Aesop, coming Tuesday. Filled with peanut butter. My book of Elizabeth Bishop is due any day now. I could buy a book of Sophocles… Should I ask Roger about helping me finish my J Bass? What color would be good? Cobalt blue would be pretty. But first, the headstock has to be shaved down. I don’t even know what shape I want. Ideally I should get myself a work bench and set it up in the garage.
Four o’clock 🕓. I just played my J Bass: sounds like Geddy Lee. Again I perceive how my bass playing depends on mimesis, on imitating the sound of somebody famous. Otherwise I’m uninspired to do music on a bass guitar. I wonder if all art is basically mimetic? Is creativity simply combining the same elements in new ways? Like Wallace Stevens in “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.” I used to deny this opinion, thinking originality is just what it is. My friends believed so too. But now when I listen to the music I wrote long ago I hear Rush influence all over it. Deep down I wished I could actually be Rush, until I heard Jaco Pastorius and wanted to be his clone. I went to foolish extremities to realize my dream. So maybe all along it was good enough to just be myself in music as well as in life. Whom do I emulate today? Is there anybody I’m trying to be like? I can only think of the character John Proctor in The Crucible for now. Tomorrow it’ll be someone else.