If I find the phrase “you should” one more time in this manuscript, something dies. In a messy fashion, very likely.
The only things keeping me sane right now are Evanescence, Howard Shore, and a bottle of ibuprofen.
Monthly Archives: February 2004
Pagan Funnies
A wand is a power tool and a ritual instrument for invoking deities.
I kid you not.
And no, the author didn’t mean it in humourous reference to the potenially high-energy applications of the wand. Maybe I have power tools on the brain these days, or maybe this is just poorly worded.
Every once in a while I just throw back my head and howl reading through this book. Sometimes in agony, sometimes with laughter. This one was a bit of both.
Why Me?
We just picked up the photos.
One entire roll didn’t take; something went wrong with the camera. The other roll doesn’t have a single usable picture on it; they’re either too bright (resulting in blinding white skin, red eyes and fuschia lips), or underexposed.
My emotions can’t decide whether to let me be angry, or just cry.
I’ll make an appointment with a professional studio this week. I was trying to avoid this because I hate sitting for portraits. I was more comfortable with someone I know doing the shots. Professional pictures always turn out with me looking like I’m wooden, with a hideous plastic smile. The really horrible part about this is that the poses and shots on the film that came back were good; just over or underexposed.
I think the anger is definitely turning into a desire to just cry.
At Last!
Looks like the spammers have finally figured me out. The latest non-sequitur subject header that fell into my inbox read bibliography minerva coronet.
Fast-Forward to March
I think I’d like winter to be over now.
Quote of the Evening:
On the structure of a Haydn symphony:
Ceri: I get it! It’s four twelve-minute pieces of music, not one fifty-minute piece of music! And each separate piece builds on the last ones until it all gets to one end!
I love being with people when they figure something like this out. The excitement is catching. It was just what I needed on the drive home.
Edited to reflect a different emphasis Feb 9, 9:42 am. And that pesky word “not” was shifted as well.
So Tired…
I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.
When I look back over the weekend, I wonder how I survived it. (The likely answer? Sugar. But I digress.)
Chamber orchestra rehearsal Saturday morning and early afternoon: brilliant. Teaching our first level 2 class of the session: fantastic. An unexpected evening off, when I’d been looking forward to some thought-provoking discussion with friends, but HRH’s cold got the better of him and there was no way I was trying to park out in narrow snow-covered streets. I prepped for the first lecture of the level 3 session instead: wonderful. The actual delivery of the level 3 lecture this afternoon: excellent. Yes, everything seemed fine until I got to the Beethoven rehearsal this afternoon, where I started to fumble and my energy began to flag.
All I wanted to do was sit back and play lovely, liquidy Andantes or Largos. Instead I was plunged directly into the fourth movement, where I rattled around in the Masteosos and Prestissimos, trying to settle into the rhythm. I was given a slight respite at the end for twenty minutes or so when we worked a bit of the third movement, but then it was rushing home, not being able to find parking nearby, lugging the cello home through snowbanks, a quick bath, an even quicker bowl of spaghetti with homemade sauce (thank you, my love), lugging the cello back to the car, and off to the chamber orchestra concert.
Where, yet again, turnout was disappointing. Not personally, mind you; I had four people there. If, as our conductor pointed out, we all had four people come to hear us play, we’d have an audience of almost two hundred.
I believe the lack of audience affected our performance. I personally think that our Saturday morning dress rehearsal had more life and energy to it than did tonight’s performance. Anyone who’s ever performed knows that a good audience has a significant impact on the morale and output of the artists involved. The small audience we had was enthusiastic and appreciative, but there’s something about glancing up at the conductor and noticing a sea of empty space dotted by a few people behind him.
Ah well. There’s always July. The July concert is always packed. And rumour has it we’ll be playing our May concert in Hudson, so we’ll have a new location from which to draw attendees.
Speaking of audiences, my parents will be in town for the Beethoven next weekend. I’m looking forward to it immensely, as I haven’t seen them since Christmas morning. So I’ll have both sets of parents in the audience next weekend – that’s a treat!
I thought I had tomorrow off, but on the way home I remembered that I’d promised to have those final two chapters edited and back by tomorrow morning. That was terribly optimistic of me. I intend to feel dreadfully sorry for myself for the rest of the evening, and perhaps some of tomorrow mornign as well. By noon, it wil be gone, and I can get some more research done.
Speaking of research: anyone know Bruckner’s Mass in F Minor? What’s it like? It’s the main programme for the May 1 Cantabile concert, and I don’t want to commit to four Sunday rehearsals in April, dividing my time between teaching and rehearsing, unless I absolutely love the piece we’re to play. And there’s rumours of the orchestra doing Strauss’ Death and Transfiguration before the mass.
I can’t think that far ahead at the moment. I can’t even think past Monday at noon.