Lookin' at you, ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) hillies |
[16 Dec 2024|10:22pm] |
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[18 Dec 2023|03:13am] |
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( bio )
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| Events |
[24 Dec 2021|09:26pm] |
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JUNE 17-22, 2012 THE SIXTH NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL PIANO COMPETITION®
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| eugene [filtered] |
[05 Mar 2012|10:37pm] |
Tristan, crafty and against the rules as ever, made a point to meet with Eugene in a very specific place of the school, reasoning that he knew exactly what he was doing, though didn't elude to anything but the fact that he couldn't reveal any details. He felt so evil and crafty for what they were about to do so when Eugene came at the time that he asked, Tristan only laid a hand on his forearm, silencing him with a gesture of his finger to his lips. Looking over his shoulder, they waited about five minutes and he further silenced Eugene until two students emerged out from a door, throwing it open and laughing as they headed down the hallway.
Immediately once they had their backs to them, he grabbed the door before it could lock, 'Sound' written in clear bold letters on the label. He opened it, grabbing Eugene's sleeve and directed him inside. Pulling the door closed he waited and listened. Standing a small wood platform, it was clear that this carried them up, high up above the raftors into the ceiling and with a wrong misstep, one could easily fall several floors down, through the ceiling and into the auditorium that was below. But from where they stood, Tristan only listened for voices through the multiple fans that drowned out the rest of the world. Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he grinned down at Eugene, raised his eyebrows and started to climb the walkway that carried them towards the sound room. It was unsure footing and a narrow path, one had to wonder why no one had ever fallen from such heights although the board walk was followed by shaky steel bannisters, it was like walking on an unsteady wooden bridge, having to have your hands on the sides to steady yourself. Together, they made their way up higher still, and when he arrived to the sound room, the flooring opened up to a window over looking the auditorium, along with a complete set of lighting that had been left unattended but turned off. He closed the door and locked it, dropping down into a chair, knowing that for the rest of the controlled lighting would be managed from down below. All the main average lights were managed from a light switch. The spot lights hung over them, over head, through glass and a dark room where he pulled out a candle, pausing to light it.
"So what do you think?" he asked, interested to know if Eugene had seen this before. Truthfully, they could get in trouble for this, but there was nothing but a slap on the wrist for being where they shouldn't be. Just like two kids on a little adventure, he enjoyed the theater kids and what little thrills they brought into his musical world, places he shouldn't be and all.
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| siraj [filtered] |
[05 Mar 2012|05:57pm] |
The pouring rain forced him inside, situated on the old couch in the common room, cross legged and hunched over a book. Several sheets scattered around him,, clearly having taken over a good portion of this end of the couch. His sketch book propped up on the arm of the chair, repressing a yawn that was creeping up his throat. He had spent a good portion of his day situated there, in silence yet the song in his head was replaying over and over, reediting a part of a song he disliked, one that he had spent several days on, writing three different variations and now, he was on his last legs with it.
Dropping his pencil, he rubbed his eyes and stretched his long arms up above his head, arching his back away from the couch and groaned, about to pitch the entire thing out. He was tired and knew when he should have set this aside, but truth was, he felt he was on the break of a really good piece he could be proud of, except that he couldn't hash out this one part. Creativity, for the moment, had taken flight and replaced a heavy absence of his musical core, leaving him drained and diminished like the rain that seemed to endlessly patter against the glass.
The shuffle of shoes turned his attention over to the door and he pulled his backwards hat down over his face, slouching in a sigh before he slicked his unkept blond hair back and fixed his hat back in place. "Hey," he greeted the new face and shivered at the sudden cold that wafted into the room. He nodded to his hoodie resting over the opposing chair. "Can you please pass me my sweater there? I would get up but," he gestured helplessly to the sheets resting in his lap, "I'm in the midst of a mess."
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