Brindisi!

I had a bad day. Fifteen-hour days are generally bad days. But today in particular topped it off: I didn't practise well, plus I had a horrible lesson. My teacher must've thought I didn't touch the piano all week. Gripped with anxiety, I imagined myself rendering the worst possible performance of the Chopin Barcarolle, concluded that I have no business studying Music, and flirted with the thought of changing careers. Not to mention the persistent cramp in my neck.

So when I heard the key turn in the front door and saw my housemate standing outside of my room, ten o'clock in the evening, I said with all seriousness, "Brian, it's time for a drink".

Brian and myself, joined by Allison (housemate #3), filled three short glasses with my beloved Frangelico and a few maraschino cherries, lit candles in our living room, and curled up on the sofas. We talked about school, friends, music, funny stories, the rhythm of our lives. Soon enough, I regained my sanity and perspective.

Before we knew it, it was time for bed. And tomorrow will be a new day.

To the family of MCBC, concerning the current political situation:


IF YOU'RE NOT OUTRAGED, YOU'RE NOT PAYING ATTENTION.


"Wail, for the day of the Lord is near; it will come like destruction from the Almighty. Because of this, all hands will go limp, every man's heart will melt. Terror will seize them, pain and anguish will grip them; they will writhe like a woman in labor. They will look aghast at each other, their faces aflame.

See, the day of the Lord is coming -- a cruel day, with wrath and fierce anger -- to make the land desolate and destroy the sinners within it. The stars of heaven and their constellations will not show their light. The rising sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light. I will punish the world for its evil, the wicked for their sins. I will put an end to the arrogance of the haughty and will humble the pride of the ruthless. I will make man scarcer than pure gold, more rare than the gold of Ophir. Therefore I will make the heavens tremble; and the earth will shake from its place at the wrath of the Lord Almighty, in the day of his burning anger."

Isaiah 13:6-13

'A' is for Audrey

One of my students, ten years of age and abounding with potential, a very precious and musical little girl with graceful posture, slender limbs and artistic hands, positioned herself at the piano today and said,

"Rebecca, I like rap".

I blinked. "You like rap?"

She nodded. "Yeh. And I like it when boys do this..." at which point she demonstrated a rapper's gesture, with her elbows suspended outward and angled her hands inward such that her fingers faced each other.

Then, holding her pose, she said, "Yo".

I threw my head back and laughed. Then, I sighed. Opening her repertoire book, I turned the page to her Minuet.

"Right now, dear, you're going to like Mozart".

We looked at each other mischievously and smiled.

Friends, my apologies for not writing lately. Ray, this one's for you!
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Facing mortality changes everything. It conjures up all kinds of existential questions, it reminds us of the very finite nature of our beings. It devastates the dreamer.

Suddenly, infinity seems of lesser importance than the present moment. Pursuing Bach's understanding of Time briefly brings the heavens to our touch, but really how tangible is it. And what good is a dreamer in the clouds.

Suddenly, the weak rise to courage. Food tastes better, friends seem sweeter. The urgency of life forces one to see, understand, and forgive. There is no time to hold enemies and no time to withold love. There is no time for meaninglessness. It makes out of the dreamer, an activist.

My mother has cancer. And suddenly, she is my mother again.



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Anecdote

Friends that know me well will most likely contest that I can often be, a) oblivious, and b) disoriented, which is all a result of c) I live in my own world. Sometimes this is why I am not the best driver. Many of the time, as I walk I'm cheerfully humming a tune or daydreaming. Not to mention that, for some odd reason, I don't have the best peripheral vision, which makes walking into things and people a not-so-uncommon occurance. My being graceful is a huge misconception.

Take for example the other day. Having just come from practising, meaning still high-strung with the music in my head, I decided to quickly check email at the school's internet kiosks. While darting my way past a couple of girls chatting, the one girl with a viola case strapped to her back turned, hit me with her viola case, and I flew into the computer desk and onto the floor. I heard a series of gasps from other students, while the violist bent down to help me up, apologizing. I hardly realized what had winded me, and I certainly didn't know viola cases were so rock-hard.

So, friends that know me well also know that I like to carry big bags. Very large luggage bags. Which can do some serious damage of their own, especially if carried by one who is, a) oblivious, and b) disoriented, because c) she lives in her own world.