
Many, many moons ago, a very close friend and I decided we'd write our own metal album. This was during a time in my life when I felt quite lost. I [hadn't graduated high school](/failures/high-school), I didn't really have employable skills. Hell, I wasn't even any good at guitar. But I loved metal and so did Bryan.

Bryan was incredibly talented behind the drum kit. It was always a pleasure to watch him play. After his band broke up, I somehow convinced him to work on something with me while he travelled across the world to spend time in an ashram in India.

We spent many hours sending Guitar Pro files back and forth to each other. He would write drums, I would write guitar riffs. We'd both tackle bass as if we knew what we were doing. I was (and still am) proud of the music we wrote! We wrote music I'd happily listen to. The project is called Copernicus. It's an alt-history instrumental metal album about Nicolaus Copernicus's theory on the heliocentric model.

During this time, I decided to learn how to record music. I wasn't going to do it casually either. I decided to attend [OIART](https://www.oiart.org/), a school in Canada dedicated to all things audio. Film, music, video games, you name it. Like I said, I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. Why not spend a year obtaining the skills Bryan and I would need to record our music?

_Side note: OIART and my audio career deserved an entry in my list of [failures](/failures)._

We had our music. We (sort of) had the skills to record. I managed to get an internship at a music studio in Edmonton as well. We rented our the studio and I recorded Bryan on the drums. We got everything we needed in the studio. All that was left was for me to record the guitars, program the bass, mix, and master the thing. Easy.

Well then I moved to Vancouver. I started an entirely new career building software. I basically quit playing guitar for no reason other than I was really focused on developing my career.

It's been almost a decade since Bryan and I started working on Copernicus. I haven't kept my end of the bargain. The project exists as some Guitar Pro files and drum stems in Pro Tools. From the outside, or even Bryan's perspective, it probably feels like this project will never come to fruition. But I'm determined... I will finish this thing if it kills me.

So what will it take to finish Copernicus?

Learn how to play guitar again. Learn how to record and mix again. I'm writing this at the end of March, 2023. This week I picked up my guitar for the first time in a very long time so that's something.


Release a music album

Get a Bachelor's degree


![Strava map showing the route of my half-marathon](/assets/bucket-list/half-marathon-map.jpg)

Running a half-marathon is easily the hardest physical challenge I'd done in my life. Growing up I hated running.

I remember being in gym class in grade eight or nine, we'd often run outside. I'd join a few other kids who would take shortcuts so we didn't have to run the whole route. Some of us were lazy, but for me, every time I ran there was a burning sensation in my lungs. I could taste iron the entire time. I hated running.

It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that I decided to try this fitness thing again. First it was yoga, then the gym, and finally running. The first time I ran as an adult, I travelled back in time. That burning sensation was back, that taste of iron. I'm surprised I even continued.

Fast forward a few years I decided to run a half-marathon. I took my training very seriously. I stuck to a program and was running most days of the week.

Finally, on a random Sunday in November, it was time to run. I didn't sign up for an actual event so there was no set route. I decided I'd just run until I hit 21 kilometers. With a backpack full of electrolytes, I left home in Burnaby and ran toward downtown Vancouver.

There are two things I remember about my run that day.

The first: the last kilometer or so. My legs were burning. My mental game was weakening. I wanted to quit but I kept looking at my watch reminding myself of how far we'd come. I was almost done, I could do it. I had to keep reminding myself. Once we hit that 21 kilometer mark I stopped running and my legs stopped too. It was like I suddenly forgot how to stand.

The second: the delicious fried chicken I ate afterward. My girlfriend and I briefly sat on a bench in Stanley Park and then hobbled our way to a fried chicken joint. I ordered a spicy chicken sandwich. The chicken wasn't even _that_ good but it was my reward and I'll never forget it.
