Eating a black bean burrito yesterday was probably not the best idea when I wanted to clean my toilet today. Still, I trudged through it—well, not literally—and cleaned not only the toilet but the rest of my apartment. I suppose it wasn’t as thorough a cleaning as I’ve given it in the past but I cleaned not too long ago. My apartment wasn’t enveloped in a layer of dust and grime. I felt a sense of accomplishment nonetheless when I’m trying to get caught up with my life and the routine I set out for myself. I feel as if all of the distractions I let build up during the month that I was working on the album with Mike are gone now. From here on out I should be able to pick up the pieces of writing, practicing music, and so on.
As my day winds down I’m writing this blog post while working on a bottle of Asti. An old Bauhaus record is playing on the stereo in my kitchen. I’m relaxed and somewhat content. I didn’t have time today to read an entire book, as was my custom on Sundays before the album but I’m not worried. I’ll pick that habit back up next weekend. As I’ll have some time before going to bed after writing this blog post I think I’ll read a short story or two by H.P. Lovecraft. I have the complete collection on my Kindle and have given myself very few opportunities to read it before. I always feel like I should be in the right mood for reading his work. I’m not in a particularly “dark” or “goth” mood today. Maybe the Bauhaus record put it in my mind. It’s probably more to do with the fact that I don’t have much time and his short stories don’t take long to read. I want to think it’s due to something more emotive than that, anyway.
Last night I went to the RPM Challenge listening party. (That’s when I really regretted the black bean burrito. I didn’t have a lot of gas yet but the cramps were really distracting me from enjoying myself.) In years past the listening party was held at different venues around Portsmouth. Last year they expanded to different communities and evenings. This year there was one party, held in the new location of the Portsmouth Music and Arts Center in Portsmouth. They set aside three rooms for listening to music played by various local artists. The set up was familiar with projectors (in one room, a monitor) displaying the album view in iTunes from a nearby laptop. The songs were set up in playlists, which looked like they were played in alphabetical order by artist this year. The idea of wandering from room from room to hear different music was both entertaining and overwhelming. I ultimately stayed in the room where they played the one Popkin-Salvador song of the evening, “Spacetime Calling” (which they misspelled as “Space Time Calling”). It seemed to be the most diplomatic solution, as several of the other people who were getting played in that room did the same. That way if they were made to listen to mine, I would have to listen to theirs.
I put out a few CDs on the table in the middle of the room. Most of them were taken without my prompting. The song went over very well. Apparently one person was impressed with my singing as he joked about wanting me to sing for his band. He then said something to his collaborator that I didn’t quite catch, but I think he compared me to Peter Murphy. I swear that has nothing to do with why I thought about playing Bauhaus this evening. I only just thought of it. If he did say that, that’s one of the highest compliments he could have given to me. If he didn’t, at least I can think that the song, and perhaps my singing in particular, put it in his mind.