Ger Exercise 9/7
You know what’s a fun exercise when things are feeling a little quiet in your ger (or in the case of you readers out there, in your apartment, house, log cabin, teepee, etc.)? Go into your iTunes and reorganize your entire music library according to “Last Played” from oldest to most recent, and then hit play. It’s sort of the “shuffle” of everything you forgot you ever listened to. It’s funny because these are bands I still think of as music that I like, but my digital record would beg to differ considering the fact that the last time I played the final track on Weezer’s Pinkerton was September 2nd, 2005 at 8:15 AM—strangely enough, the day after my 19th birthday. Today, 6 days after my 24th birthday, I’m beginning to wonder how I’ve changed, and most of all, did I have any idea on September 2nd, 2005 that 1,831 days later, I would be sitting in a ger in the middle of the Gobi Desert trying my best to peel a few potatoes and chop frozen meat from a leg of mutton.
At the very bottom of the list are things that still linger from the spring of my senior year in high school. Right now, I’m listening to myself and two of my best friends trading lines from Yasmina Reza’a Art. During one of our rehearsals, I remember us recording a reading of the entire play on someone’s iPod so that we could listen to the scenes over and over again to help us learn our lines—it’s a pretty dialogue heavy show, and was rather ambitious for a bunch of high school seniors to tackle. I’m not sure we ever really understood it at the time, but perhaps now at 24, I’m starting to. Not that I’m in an argument with any of my friends (which the whole play is about—an argument over a white painting), but this whole growing up thing and taking all of these different roads to our respective professional destinations is maybe a little like somebody buying a blank white canvas. I’m sure a few of my friends wonder what the hell I’m doing out here and what part of me I’m trying to define by doing it; at the moment, I guess I don’t really have an answer. The best advice I’ve gotten so far was from the character Yvan (So wonderfully portrayed by Mr. Boivin): “If I’m who I am, because I’m who I am, and you’re who you are, because you’re who you are, then I’m who I am and you’re who you are. If on the other hand, I’m who I am, because you’re who you are, and if you’re who you are, because I’m who I am, then I’m not who I am and you’re not who you are.” The line is tongue-in-cheek, but there’s a twisted logic to it I think.
To my friends: I think of you often and miss all of you always.
All my best,