Archive for the ‘June’ Category
The last day of June, and the beginning of a count-down to two weeks away. Teaching music camp then straight to island camping– quite different packing agendas required. Today I sift music for the concert and teaching and begin the process of organizing it in easily accessible notebooks and bundles, then– to add balance to the day– mow the lawn and transplant some wildflowers. As a creative person too much straight-line thinking makes me want to scream. But as a person about to be on the hotspot hundreds of miles from home, the prospect of too much disorganization looming makes me insane. And so I walk my own swerving path hoping time will allow me to get to the optimal point gracefully.
A hazy morning as the last two days catch up w/ me. A flat tire on setting out, saved by a good-natured AAA man, and then a delightful afternoon watching my friend B’s grandboy, just turned 1, splash in water. Babies are the best entertainment, therapy, hopeful sign, optimistic outlook there is. Come on, Gen X– have lots more! Your world needs you to step up.
Concert day, and all things lead to music. This is where I wish I always could be. But, alas, it will not earn me my living. So now I just give it away– my joy in music-making, sharing my vision of a gorgeous sound with others. It would be nice to be like the artists I saw last night, well, in a way. But I would have to abandon my solitude to an extent that I have never experienced and I’m not sure I could. Still, performing tonight is a joy. The venue is intimate, the audience loves our music, and we love the whole thing. This is my life, as I have made it, as it is somehow constrained or ordained to be.
We go to hear David Byrne and St. Vincent perform, backed by a 9-piece brass band. Crazy, amazing– just what the doctor ordered! Here’s a goofy little taste to rev up your day.
An evening stroll with friends after dinner finds this mama duck leading her babies to shelter for the night. The raindrops begin, slowly at first and then with increasing intensity. We scurry back, getting wet but not minding really as the heat of the past couple of days has been oppressive. I look briefly ahead at an intimidating chain of upcoming events, then return to this damp moment. There is peace in staying where you find yourself and enjoying it without forethought or worry.
My yard overflows with color, and I escape there every couple of hours to walk around the perimeter in wonder. Then back indoors, sunk in the process of webpage creation, a project in the works since January. Self-appointed photo-documentarian and message-creator for my university music department, I finally tired of trying to get someone else to do the job and with a certain trepidation stepped into the role of web-designer. How hard can it be?– that was my famous last flippant observation before taking the plunge. The page needs to go live by the end of the month– my deadline, but one I hope to make. And so I comb through photo files, write and edit text, and spend way too long in the tech world each day. This blog remains in my notebook unposted, as my creative outlet can’t be forced online, my tech synapses have burned out.
And here it is– the first beach day of summer. Hooray! My friends and I idyll away the hours chatting desultorily, soaking in the sun, enjoying the feel of sand between our toes. Strolling along the water’s edge I smile at the serendipity of Nature’s arrangements of stones and seaweed, creating tiny pockets of beauty and whimsy in its art gallery of divine chance.
The daylilies are popping open all over town– mostly orange, but some red or, like this one, daffodil yellow. They wear their hearts on their sleeves, curl their petals up to sleep at night, and in the morning yawn and stretch to greet the day, rain or sun. Optimistic, these flowers, and a sure sign that summer is upon us.