Looking down now on the Shanghai Art Museum, the former Shanghai Race Club building built by the British in the thirties, which is lit up dramatically beneath the monstrous Raddison Blu.
I was on that Deco roof top spot not long ago. It was nice.
The city is lit up in every
direction. Lights are important to
Shanghai. I suppose they always have
been. No concern for the light
bill. Any more than New York or Hong
Kong does. Will cities and lighting be different in
the future?
My day? I only really headed out from the fourth floor campus twice, to go to a
Starbucks. A triple the first time. Two hours later, a double. I was achingly tired. And I decided that any ingestion of food
would be the kiss of death. Stay
away. All the blood would rush to my
tummy and I’d be passing out on my feet with these kind students I was supposed
to be teaching. A bit of abstinence did
the trick. I was tired. But in control.
Trudging back to
the hotel I considered just crashing out but erred on the side of dining with
the free buffet and staying up as long as I could before laying myself down and
repeating the odd-ball patterns of sleep from another part of the world that would
only leave me ridiculously enervated, once again, tomorrow.
I’ve had Mal
Waldron on for the last few days.
Elegant, moody, he has many different albums that I don’t know of, which
are presented as “would you like to try this?” choices in my Youtube
meanderings. The Mal Waldron’s Quintet: “Seagulls
of Kristiansund,” live at the Village Vanguard for example, has me gently
captivated. Yes, I looked it up. Kristiansund is a seaside down on an island
not far from Trondheim in Norway.
Charlie Rouse is on the tenor and he doesn’t sound at all like he does
with Monk. Perhaps I’ll go one day. It’s very far away.
Friday, 04/05/19
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