Symphonies

I’ve been listening to Brandi Carlile’s Bear Creek album almost obsessively the last few days, at least in the morning. The rest of the day, with me too busy to be sitting down to listen to music without end, my brain makes up for the loss and plays the songs anyways. Friday night we went to the symphony and, let me tell you, that album works well in your head with a symphony backing. Every morning, I get up, sit down, turn on the music and write. And I’ll tell you a secret-I’ve been writing poetry. SssshhhhhhhH! I know, it’s been a while, but I’m trying to keep it low down, just between you and me, ok? My muse, she’s still a little shy lately. Well, at least the one with the official title. The unofficial yet clearly enthroned muse, the one sleeping away the weekend day morning right now, taking up all the bed since I’ve vacated my half, is rarely anything resembling shy, and anyone who knows her will heartily agree.
Lately, this has become my morning routine: wake up, blink a lot, get up, gather my iPad and headphones to go write, and immediately upon opening my bedroom door have my ankles besieged by two adorable little furry ankle ambushers who bounce up and down impressively like a couple of caffeinated jumping beans absolutely desperate, after 8 hours of having all the humans asleep, for love. Desperate, you should see them. Now, I ask you, how can anyone have anything but a fabulous day when it starts with that?
But yes, to see a symphony for the first time? I would recommend it to anyone. To see 50 different bows moving in perfect unison, while the musicians all dance in their seats to the music just to get it out, like it’s in their muscles and they need to stretch it out, like it’s in their bones and they need to constantly clear the path from the marrow to the instrument…it’s a fantastic experience. We sat in the nose bleed seats of a tiny old majestic theater that had, we all found out a movement into the first song, absolutely no A/C. You could power a country with the wind coming from the makeshift program fans everyone was swinging back and forth. And I found out that the secret to going to a symphony is to book it as fast as you can out at intermission to get to the wine and soda before everyone else does, if you want wine or soda, because inevitably the theater only prepares half as much of it as there are people attending. It’s a universal law, and I experienced it for the first time.
I’ve been pretty homesick over here. But as I learned from a movie we saw last night (The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but that’s another entry, maybe tomorrow’s), homesickness is rarely as simple as it seems, and if you give yourself time, space, gentleness and an open heart and mind and eyes, eventually you’ll realize what it really is, and eventually it’ll work itself out.

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