The Music Man.

Today was the end of another day selling vitamins, and my mood had been kind of here and there the last couple days. I was able to visit Owen yesterday, which was nice, but due to poor planning, was only able to hang out for one evening instead of longer if I had just made the visit for the week after. So I was a little bummed that I didn't think about that, but the last couple of weeks has kind of been a busy blur so I ended up missing it completely in my mind.

We have to charge HST on things at work now. It totally blows having to ask people for more money when all they're doing is trying to take care of themselves. It's kind of a downer. The way our computer system works, how we did it before was manually take off PST...now that it's changed, it totally just feels wrong not taking that tax off anymore. Especially considering that most of our customers are seniors and a lot of other people that can barely afford supplements as it is. People like me, too. Though I am extremely lucky to get a really good discount on my stuff. Even so, it's hard to get everything you need.

Anyway. I had an interesting moment today.

Due to the reason above, I've felt a less-than-happy vibe at work the last couple of days. It's been slow, and getting used to the new way of doing things feels weird. Near the end of today, I was getting ready to close and decided to buy a last minute maca bar for a pick-me-up. Mmmm, delicious adaptogen. By the time I did this, it was already a minute after 6 p.m. and I had to get things done. I saved about half my bar for the bus ride home, so that I could just sit down, do nothing and just enjoy it in some kind of pseudo-relaxing moment.

I got on the bus, and of course there was one person in each double seat in the first two-thirds of it, as per the public transit world's usual antisocial fashion. Normally I don't care and sit beside someone anyway, but I decided that I could use some stretching space and decided to brave the sideways seats at the back of the bus instead. I generally hate these seats because the jerking of the bus bothers my neck from the sideways angle, but I got an end spot next to some plexiglass (or whatever it is) to lean on so I was okay.

As I walked to the back, I didn't pay much attention to the people in the front seats. I was tired, and had been mysteriously sore the last couple of days and just wanted to get off of my feet. I sat down and munched, although I was a little disappointed at the lack of water I had left to wash it down with. The day before I'd forgotten my water bottle at work, so I only had half of it to last me the entire day today. Of course right at this moment I just happened to feel ridiculously thirsty.

Since there wasn't anything I could do about it at this point, I decided to ignore this annoyance and just listened to my music. When I had gone on my lunchbreak earlier today, I started listening to Muse, because I wanted to get back to choreographing the number I want to do to Uprising. When I'm choreographing or doing other such creative processes, I'll often listen to a song over and over zillions of times and visualize what I want to do with the music in my head. Often I'll just listen to it consciously and concentrate the first several times, then I kind of just let it blend into the background and let my subconscious work it out for me while I zone out.

Which is precisely what I continued doing on the bus, since I was tired and wasn't really up to paying that much attention or thinking that hard anyway. I started staring off into space, and shortly into the bus ride, I saw something that immediately refocused my attention.

The first thing I saw was an open notebook or binder of sorts, with a separate notepad on which the passenger was writing. I was about to glance away and continue staring into space when I realized what it was. It wasn't a notepad. It was a sheet music book. The page was filled with a little less than half a page of music written on it. I became instantly transfixed and stared intently at the page.

The owner of said book was a younger man with sandy blonde hair. I couldn't really tell his age, as from where I was sitting I could only see part of his profile. But he reminded me a little of someone I knew. Noticing the music in the notebook and the fact that he was writing it happened almost instantaneously, and somewhere inside of me, an excited little girl's heart danced when I saw it.

I became fully absorbed in what he was doing, and probably stared in that direction for probably 98% of the rest of the trip home. What was he writing? I wasn't close enough to be able to read the title on the page. Was he composing something? He also was wearing noise-cancelling earphones hooked up to some kind of mp3 player that was sitting on top of his books. He wrote down a few notes, stopped to think, erased a couple of notes, and rewrote them again. By the look of his books and the fact that he had a knapsack with him, I figured he must be a music student. I wondered if his homework was to write out the notes to a particular piece of music.

I don't know if anyone on the bus noticed me looking at him, but I felt an overwhelming joy through staring at that piece of paper. Music notes were scattered about, and it looked so beautiful. I wondered what it sounded like. Here, on this piece of paper, was a precursor to sound; it may not mean much to a lot of people just on paper, but when transformed into music, it had the power to bring about feelings of euphoria. It was almost mystical just watching it be created. Whether it was a piece of new music, or the notes of old music being rediscovered, I found it absolutely fascinating.

I cursed my inability to ever immediately remember what notes were what, though I'm not sure I could have read it anyway since I was further away. I've seen countless pages of music since I was little, but since I mostly play by ear, I've never properly ingrained it in my head how to read it. I do the same thing every time I pick up my guitar tab book. I know what I'm playing when I look at it, but probably only by memory. When I haven't played for a long time sometimes it takes me a few minutes to remember what I'm looking at. What was on that paper could very well have been a symphony or a pop song, but not knowing what it was almost made it all the more magical to watch.

I eagerly waited for the piece of paper to be written on again, and only a couple of times on the bus ride did I see the pencil touch the paper. I later noticed that it was because the writer had begun to doze off on the bus (or was at least trying to), and was nodding away. I realized why they call it "nodding off," as I watched him start to slowly fall forward, then involuntarily jerk back up repeatedly. Sometimes when the bus wiggled more than usual he'd blink a few times and almost return to the conscious world, and then start drifting off again. I've done that on particularly sleepy bus rides before. It's quite annoying when you feel so relaxed, and then that little jerk-reaction keeps waking you back up and reminding you that you are on public transit, and shouldn't really be letting yourself fall fully asleep lest you should miss your stop.

Just as a side note, some of you may be wondering why I'm writing down the details of this half-asleep young man on the bus. I don't often mention it, but I tend to be quite observant of what people around me are doing, especially when I'm by myself and have nothing better to concentrate on. I find human beings quite enthralling at times, and I often enjoy watching what they're doing in these little moments. It's quite neat actually.

I've mentioned before how I often imagine/fantasize about my life being a grand scale movie or play as I'm going about my business and all the strangers around me are extras passing through. Sometimes if you're lucky and you can catch the right moment, you get to see a bird's eye view of other people's life theatre; only this time, you're an extra in their play of life. From your point of view though, you're a spectator. In this case, Music Writing Guy didn't know I was there. But to me, it felt like I was watching a movie. Every time I have a moment like this, it reminds me of what I love about life, and it is all the more exciting when I get to watch other people involve themselves in those things. Like music. Do you know what I mean?

Anyway, a part of me really wanted to leap out of my seat, skip over to where he was sitting and start asking a bunch of annoying questions: "What are you writing? What's it for? Oooh, can I see? Where are you going to school? What program are you taking? What is it like there? etc., etc., etc." I kept debating it, except for the previously mentioned anti-social seating pattern in the bus, and that the seat directly in front of him was occupied. It's kind of awkward to turn around and talk to someone when you're sharing a seat with a stranger, and holding on to a couple of bags while sitting sideways.

Besides, he was sleeping, and I had no clue if his music was still playing either. I wasn't feeling that up to raising my voice to get his attention on an otherwise silent bus. I don't usually mind drawing attention to myself, but when a busload of strangers doesn't know what the purpose of my actions are, it would probably just appear to them that I'm trying to flirt, especially if they had noticed me staring intently in his direction the entire time.

Two stops before I had to get off, the girl sitting in front of him finally got off the bus. I was annoyed that it happened only then, because it was hardly enough time to have a decent conversation even if I did go over there. I hesitated, but since I was still preoccupied with staring at his piece of paper, I decided I'd leave him to peaceful sleep. I tried to think if I've ever seen his face on this route before (at least what I figured his face looked like from where I was) and wondered if he was on this bus regularly, and if I'd see him on here, writing again, perhaps even on the same day and time in the future. It may or may not have been a good idea, but I decided not to go talk to him this time, and I was okay with that; I got this odd feeling as if I might just be fated to see him on the bus again...maybe sometime soon, maybe a long time from now. Who knows.

It was an interesting moment I had on the bus--an unexpected, but very involved half-hour moment. Seeing that music and someone more or less my age writing it out was inspiring to me, especially with my recent thoughts about going to music school. It's moments like this that remind me why I want to do what I want to do. It's such an invigorating and gratifying feeling...one that reminds you that yes, there is a method to your madness, and yes, there is a good reason to work toward what it is you're after, even if your goals may sound completely and utterly insensible right now: because you're passionate about it. When it comes down to it, that's all that really matters.

Today at work, I was chatting to one of our friendly regulars when a couple of people she knew came in. One was a younger girl who briefly mentioned she had taken a musical theatre program. Instantly I knew it was the one at Capilano University, because I had been browsing their programs on their website and was keen on two programs in particular, that being one of them. I knew it was Capilano because they said it was the only program of its kind on the West Coast.

I thought it was interesting that these two events happened coincidentally on the same day. Perhaps these are little signs for me pointing me in the right direction. Who wants 10 years of science classes anyway? I could hardly hold my attention for one year of a transcription course. When your heart's not there, there's just no point. Granted, I am passionate about naturopathic medicine, but when it comes down to what really inspires me, moves me and keeps me going day to day, it always comes back to music.

If/when I do see the music man again, I'll be sure to ask him my questions. If not him, it will be someone else. Either way, I think this experience is trying to tell me to take a hint, and just go pursue my passions already. I'm quite excited by the idea actually. Personally, I couldn't imagine anything better to look forward to right now.