Off to NH!

Bright and early on the morrow I depart for scenic Ringe, New Hampshire. Why, you ask? For the Viola da Gamba Society of America Summer 2008 Conclave, obviously! Seriously though, it's my first time going to this annual event where the whole American gamba world congregates to play consorts and drink booze for a week. I'm pretty excited. Not only will I get to hobnob and drink with awesome dorky people much like myself, I will also get to coach and be coached by lots of different and talented people. I haven't really heard that many different gamba players and I'm interested in seeing their approaches to technique and music. A full report will be made upon my return. In anticipation of bad cafeteria food, I have packed a half-loaf of bread I made yesterday, juice boxes of soy-milk, luna bars, apples and peaches to supplement my diet with. Gotta change a broken string on the gamba tonight and then get some sleep because I'm getting up early!

Beach Story

As promised, a story of many adventures:

K and Xt and I went to the beach yesterday. It was a beautiful morning, there were sand sculptures to behold. As we left K's apartment, we wondered if maybe it would rain later but left anyway. It turned out "later" was "while we were still on the way to the T-station." I had brought an umbrella and Xt had a raincoat and K was prancing along with his shirt rolled up in his pocket (it was exceedingly hot out and humid) and we made it to the train damp but intact. Being the hardy and obstinate people we are, we never considered not going to the beach. As we got off the train we were overwhelmed by crowds of beach-goers returning home. Our arrival was also heralded by some claps of thunder and ominous flashes of lightning. Determined not to have traveled so far in vain, we made our way to the beach, jumping through puddles and failing to stay dry (note to self: sharing umbrella with a tall person makes for a lot of rain on the short person). Everyone was huddled under the pavilions and the beach area was deserted except for the sculptures (which were only just starting to melt a little in the persistent rain). So we stashed our stuff that needed to stay dry (mostly, my extra set of clothes and phones) and set off. It was great fun. The sculptures were fabulous, there was the added pride of being "those people" that everyone was watching from their dry shelters and thinking we were crazy. We were totally soaked when we walked back to the train, forded the river that was where the street had once been (fortunately, no oxen died and no axles broke) and ate peaches and sandwiches while trying to wring out our clothes while we were wearing them. The trip home was pretty miserable, but the hot shower upon arrival made it all worth it. We watched some BBC ocean nature shows and later made summer rolls for dinner. A lovely evening. Thus went yesterday.

Unrelated but Important Note: "The Secret Life of Words" may well be the best film I have ever seen. It will not be enjoyed by those who like to have a concrete story line and dislike overly depressing things, but I highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys interesting characters and human relationships. I watched it Saturday night and I plan to watch it again on Wednesday with K. It is that good.

Sweltering in Boston

I've been absent from the online world for a while and though it was a welcome respite, I have decided to return. Spent a week with my dad both in Canaan and Ithaca. Did lots of important sorting there, including my mom's jewelery, all the family photos (which are now in albums), old clothes of both mine and my mom's. And now I'm back and trying to stay busy with all my musical projects and the endless cutting and pasting that inevitably accompanies them. J is back from Ohio and it's nice to have her around again, keeps me upbeat, keeps me from napping too much, keeps me cooking and cleaning. It's good. And K, he's good too. We may go adventuring tomorrow which I will surely recap here if it happens. Life is slow and domestic these days, J and I scrubbed out the basement (which had been much abused throughout the year by the cats) and hung curtain-rods and curtains. We've made delicious meals and soups and sight-read music together. Sadly, J and my taste in movies has some non-overlapping corners from which I seem to have picked all our current Netflix. I will endeavor to watch them quickly so she and I can find things we'll both enjoy. The sky is luminous, the air is heavy, the cats are soft but shedding. A cold shower is a wonderful thing.

A Good Weekend

It started off with a quiet Friday evening and me watching a good movie. "Protagonist" is a documentary of four disparate but parallel life stories told through the structured framework of formal Greek tragedy. Great stories, great puppets, I recommend it. Saturday, I cleaned the house. Not quite like a fiend, but there are no longer grapefruit-sized balls of cat fur hiding in every corner. Also, the kitchen has returned to its comfortable and user-friendly status. Went to a Baroque oboe recital that was unbelievable. My friend G is finishing up his DMA requirements and this was his last recital before he moves to Indiana. He is a real character and plays with so much elegance and elàn (out comes the crossword puzzle vocabulary!). A bunch of us went out to a bar afterwards and K came and met me there after he was done bowling in pajamas with a bunch of the Kwifflebee/Oberlin people. This morning, I fooled around on K's guitar (totally cheated by tuning the g to an f# to mimic gamba tuning), managed to sing and play La Folia, figured out some Marais and then wrote a fun progression which I scribbled down in tab for future use. Meanwhile, K had cooked us delicious scrambled eggs with vegetables and cheese, it was sooooo yummy. Then I tagged along to the foursquare game in which I eventually participated and really enjoyed. Playing with people who are fun and not very competitive is great. This was followed by lunch and much browsing in an amazing loose tea store. On my way home, it started raining and I actually had an umbrella with me, so I ambled along listening to the downpour and staying dry from the knees up. I arrived home to the bread I had made yesterday and subsequently forgotten about and even played some gamba!

Happenings

I have returned to the world of the internet! Both much and little have transpired since my last post. For efficiency I return to the convenient list format.

-Watched some movies. Nell: very good; Where Angels Fear to Tread: not as good

-Recorded a song for my gamba bluegrass album. Recording quality is low, audience approval (audience of one, K) is high. Refinement in recording technique and equipment would be helpful, ability to listen to my own voice without cringing would also be a plus.

-Went to NYC for one night to see an art opening. Survived Lucky Star bus-ride, ate good food, walked for hours, saw wonderful art, fun people, did crossword puzzles. Saw father who returned me to Boston and had dinner with me and K. K liked father, no word yet from father on useful insights into psychology of K, verdict pending.

-Had a "sick day" with K (who is actually sick) on Thursday. Soup was made, books were read, crosswords were solved, tea was drunk, much laziness ensued. A good day, all around.

-Today, I recovered from over-extended social muscles. Sat around, did crosswords, read, listened to music, stared off into space, snacked, failed to accomplish anything useful. A quiet day that I will finish off with a movie (of course).

Random thought of the day: letters are awesome, real letters, on paper, with handwriting. I think I will write more of them. Not because I want to receive return posts (although it's always exciting to get a letter!) but because you can have a burst of thought about someone, put it in the mail and forget about it so that it's a surprise when he or she gets back to you about it!

Also awesome: gigantic thunderstorms! Today's was amazing. I even lit candles on the off-chance that the power would go out (can't seem to find J's lighter and so I lit them off the stove which wouldn't have worked in a blackout!). Sadly, no such luck, but I did watch the pouring rain travel in the wind like little bits of fog swirling around the street. The kitties started at the thunder and ran around the house in terror while I luxuriated in the intensity of the whole thing from the vantage point of the couch!

More Stolen Words

A dear old friend of my family and brilliant writer, Steve Kuusisto, posted a poem on his blog this morning that made me smile so I've decided to repost it here for all of you. My father once said that the aim of poetry is to bring back the dead. He hasn't yet explained to me how this works but Steve's poem puts me in mind of the idea.

How Poetry Works

I wasn’t one of those who believed in the end of days.

I gave a butterfly my fingertip.

I was sweaty, loving, crude, open, honest, and bookish.

I didn’t just "believe" in the Bill of Rights,

I wove my clothing from its threads.

I held the kelson of creation and a dying man

And knew they are the same.

I saw the constitution of the living and of the dead

And knew they are the same.

Sometimes in the sweetness of a summer’s hour

I held the face of the man I loved

And I held the face of the woman I loved

For all faces are divine

Reposed in the ardor

Of the sky.

What did I tell you anyway?

Poems hold so tightly to everything, everyone--

There is no good time to go.

These leaves know nothing

But light and dark

And how to live.

--S.K.

Stuck in a Rut

Been a while since I've been seriously stuck but here I am again, unable to do anything unless there are people around. I tagged along with K this morning to the Arboretum (where he volunteers) and got to help label various plants. Mostly this consists of leisurely driving around the beautiful grounds, talking about the trees, trying to locate specific plants on confusing maps and then switching out the labels because the sub-species name has changed, or the info about where it is isn't actually correct. We relabeled some rhododendrons and some bamboo. Hearing K and the guy who works there rattling off the family names of various trees and shrubs, talking about the "peak" of the various flowers, tasting immature plums and speculating about various fruit. It made me very happy. Why am I always so excited about the things I don't know? Why am I not excited about early music right now?

Heard a fabulous concert last night of mostly Victoria with lots of my friends singing. I loved hearing Renaissance stuff again, it's been a while and I miss singing. There is so much I should do but don't want to. So many primary sources I should really read, so much technique I should rebuild, so much music I should learn. But when I'm here alone, I don't want to do anything. Yes, I know it's just my weird form of depression, but it never fails to confound me that the moments I least want to do anything are also the moments I want the most. I have so many conflicting dreams, I don't know what to follow. I'm not sure if I want to be the person I've been aiming to become anymore.

I'm sure I'll feel better in the morning and maybe I'll start the work of digging myself out of this terrible hole I've fallen into.