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Tuesday, June 30, 2015

A Living Magazine - Day 7 - Ancient Future

My second morning in Santa Rosa started with a large raven squawking out his arrival. The wake-up theme of the last couple weeks has been bird based. First it was the mocking bird in Livermore and now ravens (who will show up time and again in the next couple days).

I packed up and repeated the walk from the day before down town; this time to catch a bus. The sky was overcast and this would represent another pattern. In the North Bay region (the towns north of San Francisco) it is cloudy each morning, much more humid than the tri valley region, but always seems to revert to blue skies and sunlight by noon.

My mind was at ease. The thinking and pacing from the night before dissolved my anxiety. I was strong again and unresponsive to the demons of doubt and disappointment. My objective now with this work was to just do it, and let the people fall in or out of it by their own choice, uninfluenced by my calls for support. I will still ask for donations, but I will do this thing even without them. It was time to reclaim my personal dignity and just get to work.

I studied the Sonoma County Transit schedule. It was just as illogical and confusing as every city's bus schedule had been. I've found that if I am just patient and read everything about 3 times carefully I can get the idea. This day was no different. I concluded that in order to get to the town of Sonoma, I would have to take Bus 30, at 7:40 am, traveling east for 70 minutes on Route 12, and it would cost $3.05. Now there was an hour to kill.

I bought a coffee and walked around some of the streets I hadn't seen yet. I saw this on one of the bridges...


I found it interesting that so many people write funny philosophical passages on public structures. Noticing that I only had 10 minutes left until my bus arrived, and that I was a good 15 minutes from the Transit Mall, it was time to pour on the heat. I rushed as fast as could without looking like more of a fool that I usually do.

I was wearing my new thick cotton jacket/shirt and could feel the heat between my back and the backpack, forcing sweat into the jacket. When I got to the Transit Center the bus hadn't arrived yet. I put my pack on the ground and rested, trying to dry off. Within 5 minutes the bus came rolling in. There were only 3 of us boarding at this time. The bus driver was very nice, and asked how each person was as they paid.

I sat near the back...

 
Waiting to leave on the Number 30 Bus to Sonoma.

I love to ride the bus. It is certainly one of my top 5 most relaxing things to do. In no time, we were off and chugging down the streets on our way to Sonoma's main plaza. Almost immediately, as I watched out the window, the land changed from natural green everywhere back to the blonde-colored hills and gravelly sands that characterized a NorCal "valley" region. But there was a strange mixed landscape media. It was a little bit of Livermore and a little bit of San Francisco.

The bus rolled along, and I could feel myself wanting to nod off. I'd gotten a good amount asleep again that last night, but my body could have handled more. Before I gave in to the sleepy feeling, we were there. I was very pleased to see the library as we drove one block beyond it and pulled over. I deboarded and stepped out into a beautiful day. The overcast was gone. For once I knew exactly how to get to the library in this new town. I walked up one block and there it was...


I waited a couple of hours for the library to open. When I walked in, I saw that a group of chairs had been set up - I assumed - for a lecture. I worked for a few hours and then right after noontime I saw a gentleman come in and start setting up a small PA system. I didn't pay him much attention.

Around 1:30 pm another man came in. I heard the two discussing things. The first guy, whom I would learn was Matthew Montford--a famous musician in world music circles, pulled out an interesting guitar. It was a regular acoustic instrument, but in between the frets the fretboard had been sanded down ("scalloped") so that the strings would never vibrate against it. The second guy removed two sets of tablas (one in the key of D and one in the key of E) and proceeded to set them up on a table with pillows for him to sit on behind them. People started filing into the library. And, I learned that the name of the group was Ancient Future.

I was very excited that I'd happened up this scene. I LOVE Indian classical music and world fusion, and have listened to these for many years. I recalled hearing an old radio program on MPBN - the local public radio station in Maine - when I lived in Gorham, called "Echoes." The show had a feature that was called "A Living Room Concert" every couple of weeks, profiling space, ambient and world music groups who would play live at one of their houses. And, one of Matthew's Ancient Future past incarnations (consisting of several players) was once featured on that show. 

The head librarian introduced the duo and they stepped in front of the audience and sat down... 


The librarian had mispronounced their name, calling them "Ancient Futures." Apparently this had happened before. I returned to my seat and listened to Matthew describe who they were and what they played. He joked that "Ancient Futures" was an archaic investment scheme that wasn't available anymore, but that they'd continue receiving funds for it, if the audience wanted. Everyone laughed...


Matthew Montfort explains Ancient Future

And talk about having the right guy in the audience? I was fully equipped to record their performance on my Zoom digital audio recorder (please see the audio links below). And, I caught Vishal's tabla lesson...


Ancient Future - Vishal Nagar Gives a Tabla Lesson
(I apologize for the distortion--the camera mic is blown)

The music was outstanding! Their playing was extremely well-executed. Matthew was fast and melodic on the guitar, improvising, in Indian scales, with Vishal following every note perfectly. 

People don't realize that Indians were working improvisation into their music for a few thousand years before Western culture began to do it. In Europe and America, improvisation (aside from old Black Gospel, Folk Music and Blue Grass) wasn't really appreciated until Jazz came along in the early 20th Century. I took Jazz training and music theory for 7 years as a kid, and learned from the Maine Jazz masters that the word "Jazz" (to them) literally meant: "to improvise." Soloing in Jazz is the ultimate expression of musical freedom. It led to its extensive use in Rock and Roll, and is now fully expected of great instrumentalists the world over.

Hearing these two guys be so psychically connected with the most ancient form of improvisation was a real treat; one I could never have even planned to enjoy on this trip. I offer the following two pieces for your enjoyment. I will eventually master the other ones two, but it takes a bit of work with each song, and I just don't have enough time to do it today.
                                                                                                                                                                   
Left click on the link to hear the music, and right click to download it...



What a great time! I spoke with Matthew and asked him how he got into Indian music and guitar. He told his big brother played guitar and he really admired him. He asked his parents if he could learn guitar, and instead they insisted he learn "a real instrument" and bought him a trumpet. He hated it.

He tried again and they bought him piano lessons. He did that for while until he was finally able to get a guitar on his own. Funny, a similar thing happened to me. When I was in 6th grade everyone was choosing an instrument. I wanted to learn guitar, but my parents bought a trumpet. I was never very good at the trumpet. I like it better now, but I'm still not very good.

The time came for me to leave. I wanted to get as far as I could toward Napa that night. The hour was growing late and the sun was very low. It took me two failed attempts to finally find Route 12 (Broadway). Somehow, I figured it out and was walking out of Sonoma just at sunset...




Sunset in Sonoma

On the edges of a parking lot I saw a very rare and beautiful Passionflower (Passiflora incarnatavine...


Passionflower

Besides being one of the showiest of all flowers and producing passion fruit, it is also slightly psychoactive (and is an MAOI) and has been used for centuries to aid sleep and to potentiate other substances.

For some reason my right butt cheek was hurting right under the ball of my hip. I had no choice but to walk, and have learned that no matter what the pain or ache is (for the most part) it is nothing that 5 miles of walking can't fix. Such was the case on this night. By the time I was in my sleeping place the pain had long since vanished. People who walk shorter distances and get a cramp or muscle ache do the wrong thing by deciding not to walk. When they quit early the problem that causes the ache is still in full bloom and is not being allowed to work itself out. That means that it could be a problem for many days afterward. This counter-intuitive method (e.g. walking it off) is healthy and effective. Try it the next time you cramp up or get a muscle, ankle, knee or hip ache. 

When I'd gone about 3 miles down Route 12, I saw a billboard that caught my eye. Usually, the cliche about schools training kids for the cubical or the factory stand true. It was nice to see an advertisement promoting creativity for once...


Creativity is Important at Sonoma Valley High School

I got all the way to Route 12/121. My feet were hurting and I had blisters that needed attention. I went off to the side of the road to rest and saw a piece a parcel of field that looked as if it had been leftover from the highway construction. I walked up into it and saw a nice place to nest.

Again it was a field. Again, it was soft. Again, it was in a perfect location; completely hidden from all angles. The air at night around here gets very damp and muggy as the dew point is reached. It attracts moisture to my backpack. And, my clothes (after being soaked with sweat) can not dry out. It means that each next day I need to find a sunny spot to dry everything. I know this is taking a toll of my sleeping bag...


The Nest


  
My attempt to dry my jacket on the walking stick.

When I'd settled in, I removed my socks for the first time in days and took a look at the half dozen blisters all of over them. Some were large. There is only one way to handle blisters. They must be punctured, leaving a hole that is too large to reseal again, and then drained. Thankfully I have a med kit and have become very good at treating these issues. 

The thing that makes a blister hurt is that after fluid has filled the separated skin, walking on that balloon makes the skin continue to peel away from the foot concentrically. And, besides the actual rocks and grass seeds that end up under my foot, the blisters themselves can feel like pieces of glass or metal filings. It is only after treating the blisters that I know for sure that I have a "thing" in my shoe and not just a blister. The relief from treating these blisters is immediate and lasting. Once a blister has been lanced and drained, it will not return in the same place.

This uncomfortable business is normal. It is always what happens when I start a new journey. It is to be expected and its treatment is the only way that feet can adjust to heavy use. I can plan on doing this again when I finally receive my hiking boots.

Getting to sleep was a piece of cake. I had a HUGE amount of walking to do in the morning and wanted to rest my feet as long as possible. Besides the blisters, the soles of my shoes do not have enough shock absorbing rubber for this kind of walking, making the muscles on the bottoms of my feet very sore after each day. Unfortunately, this is not the type of pain that can be gotten rid of by walking. It is only exacerbated by it. That is why I am pretty much limited to no more than 25 miles a day. 

This had been a great day with many varied experiences. the next day would not disappoint either.


Sonoma Sleeping Place

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