I do not breathe your politics
"Comment is free but facts are sacred." (C.P. Scott)
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
In the midnight hour
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So, I've had a [ANGLO-SAXON ADJECTIVE DELETED] day, got nothing done, had frustrating, motivationless encounters with work, and I'm all but ready to give up and go to bed. Nothing whatsoever has kept my mind on the job in hand.
So why is it, I've suddenly found my zone, and the code flows freely, and I can think straight? How does this work? Does that bit of my brain get up when the rest of it goes to bed?
I'm thinking it has to do with my choice of midnight music. Maybe Emmylou Harris is the secret patron saint of zen-like calm. Live At The Ryman, from the fabulous Nash Ramblers era, is playing right now. Her version of one of my favourite american folk songs, Hard Times (Come Again No More), is a true aural hug.
"Many days you have lingered / too long around my door / oh, hard times / come again no more".
It's only spoiled by the unreserved audience whooping and screaming at the end of the track. When I saw her perform that song, with that band, I was frankly stunned into uncharacteristic silence.
And on that note, I code.
posted by Michael at 2/23/2005 01:05:00 AM |