CD obsession of the moment: American Lesion, by Greg Graffin, the lead singer of Bad Religion (and coincidentally a Cornell PhD as well). It’s his first solo album, from ‘97-ish. (I think.)

I’m really into this album right now, for some reason. I’ve always really liked his voice and songwriting style, and this album gets rid of a lot of the elements that bug me about Bad Religion, such as their occasionally overly-repetitive music. The lyrics are a lot more personal than Bad Religion’s stuff; much of the album, from what I hear, was inspired by Graffin’s divorce, and most of it deals with troubled relationships. As you might guess from this, many of the songs are predictably bitter, angry, or sad, but there are moments of hope and sweetness as well. Musically, it’s heavy on piano and acoustic guitar, and many of the tunes are as catchy as the best Bad Religion. The whole thing has a ponderous, melancholy feel to it, perfect listening for a rainy autumn day like yesterday.

My favorite songs at the moment are “Cease” and “Maybe She Will”.

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Associated tech thought: it’s interesting how I use “CD” as the generic term for a collection of music released together by an artist, when actually I downloaded this whole (record | CD | album | whatever) and it’s never actually seen physical form. Reminds me of how older people, like my parents, still call everything a “record”. I guess we all tend to use whatever term we grew up with, regardless of later changes in technology…

Perhaps “playlist” will be the next generation’s word for (record | CD | album)?

I ran into my ex on the Commons. He tried to sell me a copy of the Socialist Worker.

Um, yeah, kinda awkward….

“Path is only a name for a place where you find yourself. Where you’re going on it is only a story.”
- from Engine Summer, by John Crowley

The first thing that this trip has done so far is to remind me that you can’t go back, not really. (I know that already, but sometimes I forget.) Ithaca is still here, seemingly unchanged - only the faces are different, less-recognizable, as a new crop of students starts to come through. But I have changed a lot, I think, already in these few months.

Ithaca is a great place. It’s absolutely beautiful, and full of good-hearted people doing interesting things. I still don’t understand why I wasn’t happier here. (I can say that now. I couldn’t before, when I still lived here.) On the surface, it would seem that this is an ideal place for me - that’s what I kept expecting, too. But being here in person reminds me of the flipside of that, of an underlying strangeness and unease that I think I’ve always felt here, even when I did call this place home. As if I always had to pretend that I belonged here; as if I never quite really found my niche.

Of course, you could blame that on a lot of external circumstances - leaving home at 18 and going into essentially a foreign culture, and then one relationship wreck after another, compounded by stress and a crazy workload. But my instinct says that it’s something more than that, something deeper. There’s something about Ithaca itself that is just strange to me, these days.

At any rate, this is definitely not my home. Not anymore. Which means, I guess, that Philadelphia is. I was reminded of the phrase “home is where you hang your hat” the other day, and I’m drawn to that idea. I want home to be where I am on this Earth. As long as the ground supports me and the air feeds me with oxygen and the Sun gives light, then I’ll know that I’m at home.

It’s also weird to be able to go back just like this, on a whim, to visit. I’ve never lived in a place where I could go back easily before; my moves tend to be more irrevocable. (Heck, even this time I wanted to move to Colorado, because Pennsylvania felt like too much of a repetition.)

I guess there are moments of joy and connection everywhere, both in places I’ve been already and in those that I haven’t. My path is drawn on my feet, I have only to follow it; and my story is told with every step that I take.

Today was the Autumnal Equinox, and appropriately enough, a beautiful day - up until my train was pulling into the city, at which point it suddenly became cloudy and grey. (Maybe it’s that balance thing, I guess….)

It feels like Fall has suddenly hit, just this week. I’ve seen leaves that are actually starting to turn, and not just get brown and shrivel up from drought. And there have been several days lately with that perfect combination of clear, blue sky and cool temperature that is one of my favorite things about autumn.

I tend to get really happy in the Fall. You could see that today too.

What am I harvesting? Today I went out to lunch with some coworkers, and sitting on the restaurant patio eating nachos I realized that I felt at ease… that I felt comfortable being myself… that I was actually having a good time. And I think that’s a big thing that I’m harvesting: I’m starting to become comfortable in my new environment. People from work are starting to feel like friends, and I’m starting to get involved in the community outside of work as well. I’ve actually felt pretty comfortable and at home in my physical environment, in my apartment and in this new City of mine, for a long time now, but I’m sure that my love will only deepen as I get to know Philadelphia through all of the seasons.

Another thing I’m harvesting is a renewed creativity and discipline in writing. I feel like my work in this area has really paid off, and I’m well on my way to developing a consistent writing practice. Perhaps it’s not as consistent as I would like, in the way that I usually think of consistency, of having a specific target or goal that I reach; but perhaps it’s becoming consistent in a deeper way, in that I keep on doing it even though I don’t have a goal or a schedule or an allotted time. I think it’s becoming a habit now, writing and editing and working on stories, a little every week; just like reading is a habit for me.

My personal life is still shaking itself out. (It always seems to be shaking itself out. Sometimes I think it’ll never be done.) Perhaps by the next harvest things will be a little more settled… and then again, maybe not. Either way, I’m generally okay with it, really.

Oh, and my roommate decided yesterday to quit his job. So I guess that’s some kind of harvest too.

I spent several hours this morning weeding in a community garden for United Way’s Day of Caring, with other volunteers from work. When I woke up, I was PMS-y and irritated and didn’t want to go, but it turned out to be just what I needed.

I had forgotten how much I love digging in the dirt. It was some amazing dirt too: rich and dark brown, full of old decaying mulch and white fungal threads, supporting a full quota of insects and plants. (”Weeds”, of course, being a human distinction.) All this in a lot that had been simply an overgrown weedbed two years ago, filled with trash and a hangout for drug dealers. Now it is a community garden and park with 6 raised vegetable beds, as well as other edible landscaping, plus fruit trees, art, and these beautiful planters made from concrete pipes. (Or something. I’m not sure exactly what they were. Some form of reclaimed industrial “stuff”.) I saw vines loaded with green cherry tomatoes (which may not ripen because of the cold), a giant sunflower taller than me, a praying mantis egg case, a butterfly chrysalis, and the head of my department at work pulling weeds. I’m not sure which was more entertaining. After all the rain we’ve been having lately, the weeds came up easily - though I always hate pulling dandelions.

The seed is there. I think this is what touched me the most, that it shows that any place could become that - that our cities could be that, if we had the courage and wisdom and deep love to make them so. Full of places where kids could run around playing, without fear of strangers or of traffic; where women could come and pick fresh vegetables for their families; where neighbors could meet and actually talk to each other, have a place to gather that wasn’t wholly defined by commerce.

This is what I want. This is what I want my city to be like.

What to do about it is where I tend to get stuck. I feel like I don’t have the connections, the resources, the knowledge, the people skills to do something about it. Or I just don’t know where to start.

(That particular organization, Urban Tree Connection, focusses on West Philadelphia and their model is built around volunteers from the neighborhoods, to build buy-in and a sense of ownership. Which makes sense to me. Otherwise I would just try to start volunteering with them.)

I’m thinking of City Repair in Portland, and the wonderful things that they do. Intersection repair, reclaiming public spaces and building places where neighbors can get to know each other. I’ll tell you one thing, Philadelphia is one of the better-planned cities I’ve spent time in (compared to, say, anywhere in the South or West that developed after the automobile), but still, there is a lack of public space and communication. I don’t know any of my neighbors. I’ve never even seen the people who live downstairs from me, to my knowledge. And then I imagine, what if every block had an empty lot that its residents were responsible for taking care of, and could make into a park or garden or whatever else they wanted to?

Now there’s a thought to consider.

All this is purely selfish on my part, of course. I would love to know my neighbors, and I like digging in the dirt.

If you haven’t looked at Backpack yet, check it out. Very useful site, nice use of Ajax technology… one of the best showcases of “Web 2.0″ potential that I’ve seen so far.

I have a free account right now, and I’m mainly using it for lists - if you know me, you know what an obsessive list-maker I am. I’ve also started a quotes page that you can see at http://kyrrythvyn.backpackit.com/pub/750509. I’m probably going to upgrade my account in the next few days, because I think that I would probably use the calendar a lot.