Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has communicated birthday wishes via phone message, email, or on their journals! You are a wonderful and loving bunch of people, and I am honoured to call you all my friends.
The weather is lovely, which is a gift in and of itself. My birthday celebration began a wee bit early; last night, in fact, when t! and I went to to hang out with Jes, the bassist of local Celtic band Squidjigger, and I came home with a new friend. Almost exactly thirteen years to the day after I bought my cello, a new bass instrument has entered my life.
She is a Vantage fretless bass, model number 330b (we think), with a lovely grained rosewood fingerboard, satin-finished neck, and a deep emerald-green stained body. She hasn’t told me her name yet, although I suspect one. She’s about ten years old but has only been played a handful of times, and never gigged, so she is in almost original condition. The jack is a bit finicky and she needs a tune-up, but that’s standard maintenance.
There is an entire subculture of basses with cello tuning, called tenor basses. Bet you didn’t know that. I didn’t until I started researching it idly a couple of weeks ago, because I can’t even conceive of finding the time or brain space with which to learn new fingering and scale system on an instrument with different strings. I knew that if I was ever to play an electric bass, I would want to up- or downtune it to cello tuning, because then all my fingering would be the same. And then… a fretless bass showed up on Craiglist at a really excellent price. (I didn’t even know there were such things as fretless basses. Shows how much attention I paid at the instrument and lutherie exhibit downtown last year. Although to be fair, I was searching for electric cellos to test, not looking at basses.) The idea of fretless appealed to me because I can’t stand the idea, sound, or feel of frets under a string when I play. It’s not like I was actively seeking a bass. It was just a vague if-ever thing sitting in the back of my mind that put up its hand and cleared its throat diffidently when I saw the listing.
I tested it with a clear mind, ready to say no if it felt wrong or if I was at all uncomfortable with the instrument or the situation, but from the moment Jes handed it to me and I put it on my lap it felt balanced. Usually when people hand me guitars I feel awkward and as if I have to hold them in place or keep them from falling. t! says the moment he saw me holding it he knew it was going home with me, but I don’t know when I decided it was actually mine. I think I slowly grew into it over the evening, as I explored the feel and sound of it, and talked with t! and Jes about basses and styles and makes and music in general. Aside from acquiring the new instrument I made a new friend, because Jes is a freelance writer-theatre-music person like I am, and we intend to stay in touch. I knew things were going well when no one made noises about wrapping things up once I’d sat with the bass for a little bit. We ended up spending two and a half hours there. He has handsome cats, and lovebirds too.
Also, the bass is pretty. I wouldn’t have even looked twice at the ad if the pictures had shown it to be a loud colour, a strange shape, or painted oddly. I wish the picture did her more justice; she has a pretty glow thanks to the varnish, and the flash seems to have pointed out fingerprints that I was certain I’d polished away. She is pretty, and she feels good in my hands. And she was astonishingly inexpensive. Anything is cheap in comparison to the price scale of the cello, but this was half the price of what decent quality fretless basses start at in store, and certainly more than acceptable for an instrument that will be experimental, never my primary focus, and may be played twice a month. t! sent me home with a practice amp, too, so I don’t need to invest in anything more.
Adele feels very kindly towards her new younger sister; no scraps or arguments or snits. All is well.
Hurrah, more thunderstorms! I love thunderstorms: I’ve got windows open to smell the water and wet earth as well as to hear the rain. The storm and Yo-Yo Ma playing Ennio Morricone are providing my work soundtrack today.
A huge thanks to everyone who made it out to the concert last night. There were stalwart supporters there as well as unexpected faces. It was wonderful to see you all, and I hope you enjoyed yourselves. It was great to have my five-year-old goddaughter there, pepped up on gummy worms and thoroughly excited about the night. “I get to hear Autumn play her cello — then there will be fireworks!” she was heard to exclaim. It’s nice to be ranked up there with the pyrotechnics. She came racing up to give me a flying hug when we were done, and I asked her if she liked the music. “I liked it, but I liked yours the best!” she told me. (Because, you know, the five-year-old ears of a godchild can pick your line out of everything else. It’s part of the godparent magic and mystique.)
July 1 is coming up, which means that the annual Canada Day concert presented by the Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra is also nigh!
Total word count, The Moments of Being Pandora: 68,604
This is the poem I read every Summer Solstice. And I should probably read it when I’m down and depressed and throughout the winter, because it’s life-affirming in so many ways. You don’t need to see the sun to feel its power. I forget that a lot. Not because I don’t know that it’s there, just that the sensation of sunlight on skin is such a physical presence that when it’s overcast my psyche feels cloudy, too. My subconscious just needs a gentle reminder of the sun’s energy now and again.
Longer post later. For now:
