koue

China adventure continues, with fewer trips to the bathroom. Today I went to listen to Li Xiangting, famous guqin player. His version of "Flowing Water" made me nearly shed tears to drop from my face down through several centuries of history.

Instead they dropped into a big bucket of ale that I found myself watering over just after the concert. Friends all around. One of those "I'm so sad to see all my best friends in one place" sads.

The afternoon was lovely. Still spring day with only cotton puff seeds floating through to mark the passage of time. The seeds floated through working factory floors onto the canvas surfaces of avant-garde paintings in the surrounding gallaries. I talked movies with a pal.

Li Xiangting's site (Ignore the phallic floating guqin)