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In the community band/orchestra world, we're heavily into preparing for Holiday concerts. The conductors are realizing that there are only so many weeks to go until showtime and this pack of amateurs that they've agreed to lead are far from being up to the task. It's no longer a fun opportunity to work with the community. Suddenly their professional reputation is on the line and they become snappy and irritable and we start feeling like we're back in high school again being scolded for not practicing enough. Only then we didn't have full time jobs and kids to worry about. We are condemned to playing such holiday delights as "Sleigh Ride" , a piece most of us could play in our sleep and wish we could forget. For the French Horn players we are once again condemned to those infernal backbeats, oompah Hell.
And at home, I'm starting to wonder how I want to participate in the whole madness of the holidays. Do I really want to travel long distances to be with these people I call family? Do those kids who moved away from home really need to receive a gift? Will I drag myself out to the Christmas Eve service again for something I really don't believe in? And will I actually ever get that peaceful warm and fuzzy feeling this year that I think Christmas should be all about? How about you?
i used to think she was a bit of a princess with the diamond bling and all but the bruised arms gave it away and the sake made her spill the beans once upon a time her handsome young husband blew his brains out before her eyes and she lives to tell the tale and i wonder how we bear those crosses alone and how we can smile and carry on.
More music tonight. This time the orchestra. I love a good conductor. The best ones are like skilled dancers. They move and the music moves. They bring up the volume and tone it down. They give you the evil eye and you adjust your pitch. They bend forward and motion you towards them and you speed up. They wave their arms with romantic passion and you play more lyrically. My high school conductor used to conduct the jazz band like a marionette, like he had strings instead of bones; he was so flexible.
What wonderful power to be able to create beautiful music out of a bunch of disparate, distracted people and some funny symbols on a piece of paper! What's your dream job?
My mom used to tell the story of how her piano teacher yelled at her for not practicing and made her cry. The teacher told her she built her house too close to the water. Now my mom didn't just cry when she was being scolded, she cried at hellos, and at goodbyes, at beaufiful music at moving prayers or poems. You name it -anything worthy of emotion, she let it all hang out. It use to embarrass me, but apparently I am now carrying on the tradition.
I played in a concert tonight at a senior living facility. We started out with Amazing Grace as a trumpet solo. An elderly woman in the audience started singing along in a somewhat raspy and out of tune voice, but when I saw her beaming up at us, I nearly lost it.
At the end of the show, an old gentleman wheeled himself up to the stage to show us his trumpet he had played years before in school and in the service. One of my fellow musicians managed to eke a little ad lib When the Saints Go Marching In. He was smiling and clapping and you could just tell we made his day. And there I was blubbering again.
I guess being emotional isn't such a bad thing, but sometimes I wish I could put up more of a facade of composure. Do your emotions ever embarrass you in public?
One of my coworkers invited me to a women's retreat last week, a Christian women's retreat. It made me realize that I can no longer fake the Christianity thing, although I probably spent every Sunday between the ages of 1 and 18 in church, know most of the old Presbyterian hymnal by heart and could recite many scriptures if pressed. When and why did I get so far from my roots and why do they make me squirm so much now? Don't get me wrong. I want to believe in God, have a personal relationship with Christ, speak in tongues, or sing a gospel song as joyously as an Baptist choir. But I'm just not feeling it. I've been known to shed a few tears during Communion or the passing of the peace, still feel compelled to go to the Midnight Service on Chrstmas Eve and have felt a few inexplicably strange sensations during yoga class. And I'm not ready to say I'm an Atheist or an even an Agnostic because I just can't say absolutely that I don't believe. So where was I when they were handing out the faith? And why can't I abide being around the religious practices I grew up with? Will I always be this confused about religion? Is everybody and they just don't admit it?
Not to start out on a strenuous hike at 6:30 in the evening with his friends, with no directions or concrete idea of where the parking lot or the trailhead is. This is the kid who anxiously admonished me ten years ago that I was too close to the edge on the Bright Angel Trail at the Grand Canyon and who moaned and groaned and complained the whole time when his late father and I used to drag him along on hikes. He calls me just now on his cell phone to ask me how to get this trail (The Bill Goat Trail in DC). I probably haven't been there in 7 or 8 years myself. I didn't even want to ask if he had any water or any other supplies with him. Obviously he is far wiser than his antique of a 49 year old mother. Keep your fingers crossed! I'm going to take a deep breath and hope some of the common sense lessons I have tried to instill in him take hold. That's all you can do right?
Isn't it great when you have a good night? When you play in tune, and don't miss any notes, and when you are satisfied with the ineffable expressive qualities you put into it? And when your co-musicians compliment you but you already knew it was ggod? But why does this happen sometimes when you haven't played a lot? And other times when you've worked really hard to prepare, you still screw up. Is it the alignment of the stars? Some principle of physics- the combination of temperature, humidity, your own level of alertness, focus, creativity and energy combined with that of other people's. Do any of you play musical instruments or sing? Have you experienced this unpredictability of performance?
i want it without winks or inboxes where the dishes wash themselves after a romantic dinner and you can just melt without a thought of condoms or chlamydia or babies and at the end horses come running down the beach miraculously and you can suddenly smile and stop crying.
Today my 12 yr old Saturn with 200K miles died. It belonged to my late husband. I spent most of the afternoon boo hooing over it. It's been 4 yrs since he died. I thought I had reached the stage of acceptance and could think and talk about it all calmly without tears. It's amazing how one can associate a thing with a person to such a degree and how this thing can sabotage your emotions when you least expect it. Am I crazy?
To link to this blog from blog posts/comments, use [blog jbulie], from anywhere else use http://personals.westword.com/blog/jbulie,
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