Tonight seems like a good time to write. The writing urge is tugging, which it hasn't done for a long time. . . probably because I haven't had time to give it a chance. Now, my real challenge is keeping on track while I type this in the lobby where "Friends" is on TV. Believe me, I'd be in my room, but I'm afraid my computer may decide to shut down and take its weekend rest when I'm about 89% done with the blog. And believe me, "Friends" doesn't intrigue me at all, but it does interrupt my thought trains.
Tonight Festival Chorus performed the second half of Bach's Christmas Oratorio, with guests for the solo parts. Sitting on stage is much different than sitting in the audience, in fact, standing on stage is rather different. I hovered between the happy extremes of feeling the glory of the music lift me toward the roof, to momentary panic that I had missed a cue from Prof. Faber, to the uncomfortable certainty that I was feeling dizzy and wobbly and would faint, just because I've never fainted before and performance night would be the perfect time to do it. But the night turned out to be a success, mostly because I was only one of forty and couldn't do too much to ruin it. It has been very pleasant to participate in some music this semester, which is now over, leaving the sad predicament of free Thursday evenings.
Let's see, I promised more details on our budding poetry club. So far we have met two or three times, depending on which of us is the subject, since Kat and I missed last night's meeting due to a three-hour dress rehearsal in which no one dressed at all like performance night, but we did rehearse - excuse that rabbit trail, I'm just trying to figure out how 'dress rehearsal' got its name. Our still-developing goals seem to be 1) to read and discuss poetry, 2) to write poetry to read and discuss, and 3) to find inspiration to write poetry to read and discuss. In other words, it's actually an inspiration club. Our main problem is to meet these three goals, because a few more easily distracted individuals distract the remaining compliant ones. Since several good ideas have sprung from these distractions, we continue to make progress and press toward the ultimate goal of being "the coolest club at Grace" (not my words) and promoting the general literary culture on campus.
Returning to tonight. . . it has been a relaxing evening of tidying, laundry, reading blog posts, talking to a friend, lifting weights. That last makes three times this week, which means I'm almost back to re-establishing a habit from last semester. More importantly, it means I'll be ready to come home for Thanksgiving Break and give piggy-back rides and play Dutch Blitz and beat thick banana bread batter and whatever else may be necessary. Thanks to some very wonderful friends - you know who you are, even if I don't! - Ardith will be home as well. This will undoubtedly be our most memorable Thanksgiving ever. Even if we have to celebrate it from two locations.
And now it's nearly 12:30 a.m., late for this little girl.
4 comments:
You might want to say friends at LU as there are more than just girls who are helping to send Ardith home...
I know she's looking forward to it also!
--One of the roommates
I'm not sure if it works for anyone else, but I sometimes find that the best way to get inspiration is to pick a subject (clouds, grass, or cheese, for example) and think about that subject as much as you possibly can for several hours. If inspiration doesn't strike, you're likely to go insane, which is almost as useful for writing poetry. :-p
*side note: I have responded to your recent comment on my blog (http://linguist.blogspot.com) with a comment at the same post, in case you're interested*
I wish I had read this earlier :-)
I wish I had heard your concert and been in the audience to see your radiant face :-)
I am glad you did not faint :-)
Fainting COULD bring fame and noteriety, well, noteriety, anyway. It tends to be a little hard on the head, though.
Concerning inspiration, you might try what Martinez said, except think CHOCOLATE.....
If you ever DO faint, try and make sure you fall onto some chocolate....
Mommy, sensing a subtle theme here. . . ! I wish you'd been there too. Guess who came up to talk to me afterwards? Mrs. Feltz, your piano teacher! She asked after the family, and was glad to hear of Daddy's heart transplant.
Thanks for the suggestion, Martinez, if I ever have two or three hours free to think my own thoughts. . . . . . . maybe Thanksgiving. My mind's already full of inspirations, catalogued and filed for future use. But those are stories, not poems. And I don't really feel like writing an ode to cheese. Or even chocolate. I'd rather eat it.
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