Moving out of 16 Armstrong

Another re-discovered post from a while back. I'm guessing mid-August 2010.

It's been over a month since I moved, and my new apartment feels like home, but it is never easy to turn your back to anything you've been close to for a while. At the end of July, I left 16 Armstrong St. for the last time.

I'd lived in that apartment for three years. It was nicely broken in, and I felt settled. When we secured this new place, I really didn't think at all about how strange leaving Armstrong was going to be. Our two leases overlapped for the last two weeks of July, and I didn't hesitate to begin the move right away. I stayed in the new place on the first night, and all I had was a duffle bag full of clothes to use as a pillow. My brother and I moved most of my belongings in one day, and after that, I was basically done living on Armstrong.

I went back there every day to clean the place, pack a few more boxes, and even rehearse with Richard Saunders (a great vocalist I have a duo with). At one point, there were only two chairs left, and nothing except bookshelf and dust in the living room.

I started spending all my free time there during the day, even when I was not busy cleaning. My roomates were there at different times (much earlier usually), so I was often alone. About three days before the lease ended, I moved the last of my belongings (again with my brothers' help) over to my current dwelling. It was then that this reflective feeling started to sink in. My brother asked how I was feeling about this, and I told him that it was starting to feel strange.

The next two days were fairly busy - my roommates were making sure everything was tidy (so as to not lose our deposit), and we spent more time there than usual. On the last night of the lease, I was there from about 8PM to Midnight. Casey (my longtime friend and roommate of a year) showed up at about 11PM (from work) to help take down the last of the trash (there was alot of trash). We had one or two more trips to make when I asked her if we could stay there for a while after we finished because I wasn't ready to leave. With that, I started to cry.

Moving into that apartment was the first good thing to happen to me after my mother died, and I think that's what had struck me the most upon leaving it. Knowing a place really well isn't everything (although I will admit I got a slight sinking feeling in my gut when I moved out of my dorm after freshman year), but I don't think I'll ever forget what that place looked like, the experiences I had there, or any of the five other people I lived there with over that time.

North Adams Trip/Bang on a Can Concert

About a week ago, Jared Burrell and I set out to North Adams, Massachusetts (3 1/2 hours from Boston) to hear an afternoon concert given by the participants at the Bang on a Can summer institute at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art. I had gone to their marathon concert in NY a couple years ago (another long haul from Boston), but this was in a much more remote location, and the experience I had getting there was also remarkably different (this one was favorable).

We drove all the way across the state on Route 2, and considering the scenery, it's at times hard to realize that this is the same route 2 that runs into Downtown Boston. These days, the hills, valleys, and peaks we rode through are much more interesting to me than any city skyline could be. My phone had run out of batteries by the time we met up in Braintree, but I would have taken pictures. The whole ride was really fun. It felt great to be in a car (instead of a bus or a train) and Jared and I always have really good conversations.

North Adams is a town full of abandoned industrial buildings that were converted into artist spaces. I got a really nice feeling from being out there, and if I ever decided to just be a composer (and not perform with anyone) I'd want to call a town like that home.

Upon arriving in North Adams, we had lunch in a coffee shop that served great hamburgers. In Boston, coffee shops don't go anywhere near hamburgers. I like the non-specialization that happens in smaller communities that (although small) have to cater to a wide variety of people.

The concert was in a black box theater with seats that gradually rose like bleachers. On the way home, we discussed what we heard, and came to the conclusion that most of the music was really good, but aesthetically limited. This group was founded by three composers who have similarities in their musical language, and while other concerts that week featured some varied styles and composers, it was clear that most of the composers picked for the institute were chosen for the amount they had in common with each other, and the founding members of the organization. This gave Jared some peace of mind, as he had wanted to be part of the program.

This has to be the only time I'd gone to a Dunkin' Donuts twice in one day, but despite this, things got a little quiet towards the end of our return trip. I think it was because of the lack of sun after 8:30 or so. Jared admittedly tends to miss turns and stuff while driving, and this is made worse in the dark.

I wish he had dropped me off in Cambridge (right off of rt.2) instead of in Braintree, because the red line was running shuttle busses between Quincy Center, and JFK/Umass. This was really strange, but I suppose I took note of some oddly interesting (or just strange) people/streets, and it only added about a half-hour to my entire day.

Overall, I had a great time. I was reminded that my roots are outside of the city, got to spend a day traveling with a friend I've known for ten years, and am happy that I'm working with so many different people and influences.

Now...

that I have internet in my new home, I can write some new posts.