Westryn Wynd

A west wind salutes me, I think of home.

Many may consider the rural areas of the west similarly as one would aesthete paintings. They look nice, but you wouldn’t really want to live in Victorian England. Some people look at those areas of the map where roads and town markers fade away, and consider the intellectual aptitude of the inhabitants similarly waning. Not I. I have seen things and known people whose very existence screams blatantly to the contrary. There exists a certain marginalized thread of our society wherein one finds long-winded cowboy philosophers, beautiful bleak winter days, and those people who chose to forsake all the comforts of progress in order to be closer to both. Most people look at the tapestry and pass over these seemingly threadbare patterns. Some of us, however, see nothing else. The lines and circles roll away like ripening wheat, and the doubts and terrors of our absurd world roll away with them. A swift sunrise over snow-capped mountains, and I am home

Eve of all Hallows, Day of all Saints

Well, halloween came and went. We attempted to recreate the spirit here in Studentenstadt, and succeded to a degree. We trick-or-treated throughout our fair Student City, visiting each persons building for goodies. It was very cold, and one girl made Gluhwein (hot German spiced wine), mmmmm. Another building also featured hot cider, good stuff. Jammed out on Wharf Rat for a while, that Asus2 chord is a pretty nifty place on the guitar I must say. Fun to hang around there. It's probably a bad thing to be in this habit of just diddling along with Grateful Dead songs, since I should be attempting to become competent at barring. I am bar-challenged. I cannot play bar chords if my life depends on it. I can barely change to C minor and maybe an F or F sharp. I read some scary horror stories of guitarist playing for twenty years and never really being able to bar. And playing eight note melodies to Dead songs all day sure isn't helping any. I got my first package from my parents yesterday (Happy Birthday Mom!), and I've already almost decimated the dried fruit found therein. I also received some CD's from Dad, some mighty fine CD's. Today is All Saints Day, which in Germany is a national holiday, and we have no classes. Hopefully this fellow on our program who plays Ukelele and I are going to jam later, and its a surprisingly sunny winter day. Maybe we'll throw on some pullovers and let our melodies ring out over the cold Munich air. Or maybe we'll contain amateur hour to the indoors.
We were going to head out to Berchtesgaden tommorow (Nazi party leader retreat/vacation town) and see The Eagle's Nest, but we found out that is is closed for winter. It would have been neat to ride in that gold-plated elevator up to Kelsteinhaus, guess it'll have to wait 'till the fervent tides of spring. This album "Rear View Mirror" by Townes Van Zandt is plain amazing. I recommend it. Some people and I are going to make dinner soon. Until next time my friends.