There are easy days, and there are tough days.
Sometimes it's not clear why a day is one or the other.
It's not like people weren't perfectly nice to me, some even smiled when they saw me, some did me favors and said nice things to me.
And yet I was annoyed by the smallest things today. A man who kept yelling at me as I walked down the street. "Miss! Miss!" Persistent, rude.
A woman who tried to get me to do something, join her cause, a perfectly good cause, but one I did not at that moment want to join, and said something tactless, to which I answered something tactless back.
A disappearing bike lane.
Wegmans being out of Ben & Jerry's vanilla ice cream. And just out-and-out not carrying matches, the small ones anyway.
Is everyone in the world lighting their candles with lighters?
And then there were the small wonderful things. A friend's silly accent making me laugh. A kind voice on the phone in the middle of the day. Being reunited with my instrument after having it in the shop. Singing.
the weekly newsletter of the utterly unique, einmalig Opera Scenes class
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
pinecones 2/we are here to help each other out 2
The pinecone game was back this week. My student strode right in and took them off the shelf and lined them up. Then she laid out the green ribbon. The game was to kick a pinecone across the green ribbon each time she did a fancy bowing. The fancy bowing happens six times in the song, so there are six pinecones.
She was still having some trouble remembering which part was which. Sometimes I'd give her a prompt, like "it's like the beginning again, but with a different ending". We got through it, and we were just sitting there assessing for a moment when she said, "We should tape a piece of paper to each pinecone, and write on it 'Beginning, 1st ending,' and stuff."
"Brilliant!" I said. "I'll get paper, you get tape."
We set to work. Soon each pinecone was labelled (have you ever tried to tape a piece of paper to a pinecone? Not as simple as it sounds). "PINECONE 1. Beginning with first ending," etc etc. We decided we probably shouldn't kick them, or the papers would fall off. "I can make a piece of paper that says "DONE!" and then as I play them you can take each pinecone and put it on the piece of paper," my student said. "Good idea," I said.
That was soon made, and we played through it again, this time with no prompts.
"You can use these with your other students to help them too," she said.
"Good idea," I said.
She was still having some trouble remembering which part was which. Sometimes I'd give her a prompt, like "it's like the beginning again, but with a different ending". We got through it, and we were just sitting there assessing for a moment when she said, "We should tape a piece of paper to each pinecone, and write on it 'Beginning, 1st ending,' and stuff."
"Brilliant!" I said. "I'll get paper, you get tape."
We set to work. Soon each pinecone was labelled (have you ever tried to tape a piece of paper to a pinecone? Not as simple as it sounds). "PINECONE 1. Beginning with first ending," etc etc. We decided we probably shouldn't kick them, or the papers would fall off. "I can make a piece of paper that says "DONE!" and then as I play them you can take each pinecone and put it on the piece of paper," my student said. "Good idea," I said.
That was soon made, and we played through it again, this time with no prompts.
"You can use these with your other students to help them too," she said.
"Good idea," I said.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
waiting
Good evening!
Where oh where, world, is my promised rainstorm?
You promised rain this morning, you promised rain at noon
But evening came and still no monsoon
Hither and thither I came, and whither I went
No boots did I need, nor jacket, nor tent
Not for miles, not for feet, meters or yards
All was as dry as the best mustards.
Oh when will it rain? When will it pour?
I'd better go out, walking, and tempt it some more...
Where oh where, world, is my promised rainstorm?
You promised rain this morning, you promised rain at noon
But evening came and still no monsoon
Hither and thither I came, and whither I went
No boots did I need, nor jacket, nor tent
Not for miles, not for feet, meters or yards
All was as dry as the best mustards.
Oh when will it rain? When will it pour?
I'd better go out, walking, and tempt it some more...
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
of pinecones and play
Today a student of mine and I were playing the pinecone game. I say "the pinecone game" but really that's not a helpful designation, because at any moment anything at all could become the pinecone game, and it could never be the same twice. It happened because we had been playing the bead game last week, but then I went and took home the beads (they were, it must be said, tiny, and in great danger of being lost). And there the pinecones were.
There they always are, because I pick them up on the way to work. I try to pass them by; sometimes I succeed. But invariably, after a few weeks of this, walking by and ignoring them, or telling them yes, I see you, yes you are beautiful but I have so many of you already!…I pick another one up and it's just so beautiful I have to take it with me.
So there is a pile of pinecones in my studio. Which is a good thing, because it means we can always play the pinecone game!
Anyway my student asked me, as we put them away, "do you ever wash your pinecones?"
"No, I've never even thought of washing them. Are they dirty?"
"Well if you haven't washed them, they must be dirty."
Can one wash pinecones? Should one wash pinecones?
There they always are, because I pick them up on the way to work. I try to pass them by; sometimes I succeed. But invariably, after a few weeks of this, walking by and ignoring them, or telling them yes, I see you, yes you are beautiful but I have so many of you already!…I pick another one up and it's just so beautiful I have to take it with me.
So there is a pile of pinecones in my studio. Which is a good thing, because it means we can always play the pinecone game!
Anyway my student asked me, as we put them away, "do you ever wash your pinecones?"
"No, I've never even thought of washing them. Are they dirty?"
"Well if you haven't washed them, they must be dirty."
Can one wash pinecones? Should one wash pinecones?
Well, the pinecone game was fun. That and the fact that the world threw a microwave in my path right when I needed one, and that I got to sit in (stand in, really) on a few songs with some guitar-playing dudes at the market today ("What have you got in there?" "A viola." "Want to play? Open that case up, get it out!")…all these things, and more, make me a happy blogger tonight.
So open that case up, whatever it is, get it out, and play!
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
band camp
Today, today was a big day.
Today, I made up a song for one of my students. I helped another one write down a song he was making up on his violin. I helped another one begin a piece by Bach which she has always loved.
I went to lunch with two friends.
I walked to work, and back; I walked all the way down Park Avenue, and back.
I saw a few fireflies, some dusky clouds, and lights in people's windows.
I met a baby goat named Justina. I had just enough money in my wallet to buy what I needed at the market.
And I started a bandcamp page.
I am happy.
Today, I made up a song for one of my students. I helped another one write down a song he was making up on his violin. I helped another one begin a piece by Bach which she has always loved.
I went to lunch with two friends.
I walked to work, and back; I walked all the way down Park Avenue, and back.
I saw a few fireflies, some dusky clouds, and lights in people's windows.
I met a baby goat named Justina. I had just enough money in my wallet to buy what I needed at the market.
And I started a bandcamp page.
I am happy.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
a night in july
Now, with all this free time on Wednesday evenings, I can dedicate myself wholly to one of my favorite things:
walking.
It is a nice cool breezy night, a relief after the hot and humid days we've been having.
Strolling past lantern-lit porches and sidewalk tables, listening to the wind in the trees, making sure not to trip on rough bits of sidewalk (I insisted on wearing flip-flops, ones that are peeling at the bottom and get caught on things), I had time to ponder the imponderables:
Where are fireflies on cold, non-summer nights?
When will I sing next, and where?
Why do I hate one movie, and love another? (Especially when I can see how the making of one necessitates the making of the other…)
What's next?
Who knows. But it is a lovely mid-summer night, and I for one needed this lull.
Wishing you all peace and goodwill, wherever this may find you,
Margaret
walking.
It is a nice cool breezy night, a relief after the hot and humid days we've been having.
Strolling past lantern-lit porches and sidewalk tables, listening to the wind in the trees, making sure not to trip on rough bits of sidewalk (I insisted on wearing flip-flops, ones that are peeling at the bottom and get caught on things), I had time to ponder the imponderables:
Where are fireflies on cold, non-summer nights?
When will I sing next, and where?
Why do I hate one movie, and love another? (Especially when I can see how the making of one necessitates the making of the other…)
What's next?
Who knows. But it is a lovely mid-summer night, and I for one needed this lull.
Wishing you all peace and goodwill, wherever this may find you,
Margaret
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