There must be recorders in hell.....

Went out to a concert tonight, chamber music at Bourgie. The theme was Romantic Baroque, so Vivaldi, Handel, Telemann, but they invited a pair of recorder players. I know that recorders are pretty integral to a lot of Baroque music, but I loathe them (and harpsichords for that matter). Apologies to all who love them, but they attack every nerve in my body and turn me into a rabid dog, the sound agitates and irritates me until I want to scream or pass out to end the agony.

The bits when they weren't playing were good, a few of the Vivaldi concertos for two violins were quite nice and the Telemann Don Quixote also very lively and warm. But then the recorders kept coming back for more, the tall guy pulling out all the stops and playing a solo that was the Baroque equivalent of Hendrix wowing the audience. It was very impressive in its difficulty and execution I know, but it was all I could do not to rush the stage with my program and papercut his lip. Later on the whole thing became quite amusing when they were both playing flesh-coloured thicker alto recorders with bulbous, creamy tips. I'd never noticed what they looked like before and the enthusiastic bouncing and swaying almost brought on a giggle fit that would have had me kicked out of the hall. If my ears had not been bleeding, I'm sure I would not have made it through.

I am tired of living on canape classical - other than the opening children's concert I haven't been to the OSM or seen my boyfriend and the OM all season. I miss the power of a full orchestra and the kind of sound that pins you to the seat and sticks its tongue right down your throat. I'm tired of being tickled by the occasional arpeggio or fondled by a concerto grosso. I want a symphony,  to be slowly seduced and teased and delighted through the opening and allegretto, heightened to a flush in the scherzo, and brought to a frenzy in the finale, breathless and gasping and spent.
I need a good symphonic you-know-what....

"There are two ways to live your life – one is as though nothing is a miracle, the other is as though everything is a miracle." -Albert Einstein

Excerpt from somewhere lightheaded

I'm sitting here on my bed with a glass of wine and a breeze blowing over my toes from the open window and I'm wondering what it is that is making my heart so light today? Is it really spring with the bizarre summer temps that is making me so giddy, or is it a feeling of hope that comes when you let all the fear and doubt and sadness and guilt in your life go? All I want to do today is love people and things and me and the strange and beautiful things I do. Today there was no weight and nothing pressing into me and it didn't make me more productive or creative, but it did make me happier. I wish you were here to feel this with me, amidst the chaos of my house, toys, art projects, books, dirty dishes, unfolded laundry, and ninja lego ready to attack your feet at any moment. Sitting on my bed, legs and bodies entangled while you tell me something funny that takes me by surprise and all of a sudden I want to take your face in my hands and kiss you and pour my joy out into you so you can breathe it in and smile like a boy who has discovered he's a superhero, that he can fly.

Winter's gone

The season changed suddenly and I am trying to find the words to express that lightness and calm that the warmth brings to my body, melting the tension in my shoulders and mind as it melts the last remaining piles of snow and ice from the shadows. The smells of the earth and the trees waking up and everything coming alive again makes the entire city invigorated and enthusiastic. People are smiling more, people are outside raking their lawns, playing on the sidewalks, congregating on porches as the evening light stays longer. We are all one in spirit in the great communal relief that winter has left for another 9 months.
And my heart is wandering from place to place looking for a solid place to land and yet rejoicing in the soft breeze that is keeping it aloft. Perhaps I will let it hover on the currents a while longer.

Spring reflections

Spring is coming and there was a warm, sweet breeze blowing across my face yesterday morning as I crossed the grey parking lot. I looked down at the puddles and marvelled at the stark reflections of the dark, bare tree branches against the pavement. I cursed not having my proper camera, but pulled out the old iphone and took a series of shots all over at all angles. One man stopped to watch and see what I was doing. He was amazed that I could find anything so beautiful on such a sullen day. But that is what I love to do best I think :-)
Part of me has turned upside down as well it seems. While I share most people's feelings of spring hope and anticipating the end of the winter, I am also moody, because I know that I am due for more change, and I am tired of negotiating with myself for it. I know what is in my heart and what isn't, and I am mad at myself for trying to justify it, waffling in the spring breeze and hoping I will suddenly wake up and everything will be different, that I will be content and sensible.
One puddle does not make a spring. There is so much beauty to see everywhere and in everyone, especially in the places where you least expect to find it. I can no more stop seeing it than I can stop breathing, and spring's light and warmth are making my eyes and heart restless for more.