Celebrating a Year

August 10, 2016

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8.10.16P brings home flowers, for no reason except he was thinking of me. I arrange them with happiness, feeling surrounded by love.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:50 pm

Posted in August

August 9, 2016

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8.9.16Trying to write music, but my muse evaporates when I attempt to close in and pin an idea down. I write and re-write and discard. At night I hope to find inspiration in the scenes of my beloved Ro interspersed between sporting events, but it’s not the same to watch a sanitized version from afar. I long to be immersed in the hot, dirty, fragrant, chaotic reality of the Cidade Marvilhoso. Tomorrow I will return to my keyboard and try again.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:49 pm

Posted in August

August 8, 2016

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8.8.16Trying to write music, but my muse evaporates when I attempt to close in and pin an idea down. I write and re-write and discard. At night I hope to find inspiration in the scenes of my beloved Ro interspersed between sporting events, but it’s not the same to watch a sanitized version from afar. I long to be immersed in the hot, dirty, fragrant, chaotic reality of the Cidade Marvilhoso. Tomorrow I will return to my keyboard and try again.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:48 pm

Posted in August

August 7, 2016

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8.7.16Today my group meets for rehearsal and to try out our new concert program informally for an audience at a neighborhood get-together. It’s fun and satisfying to play music with these friends, as always. What we have created is a mélange of friendship and music, interesting to be part of, intriguing to hear, uniquely ours.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:45 pm

Posted in August

August 6, 2016

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8.6.16Proud harvest from failing plants. The days are too hot, the rains too sparse, my attention too often drawn elsewhere.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:44 pm

Posted in August

August 5, 2016

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8.5.16Opening ceremonies of the Rio Olympics are full of nostalgia for me, or “saudade” as the Brasileiros say, as images of the city that evoke personal memories flash on the TV screen. Streets I have walked down, my neighborhood of Urca beneath the Pão do Açucar, the mosaic steps up to Santa Teresa, the designs of the sidewalks, the mountains dropping down to the sea. I am proud of my adopted city as the beautiful ceremony unfolds, and cross my fingers that all will go well for Cariocas as well as the athletes pouring into Maracaña, full of hopes and dreams and wonder.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:42 pm

Posted in August

August 4, 2016

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8.4.16Walking downtown for an errand takes me out of the insular calmness of my life at home and into the no-shade heat of the city whose outskirts I inhabit.

Written by mairmusic

August 23, 2016 at 9:40 pm

Posted in August

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