[100 days of 100 words] Note to self on Air work, and 200 of the 300 words I have due today

Had some time to daydream and notice Air as I walked to Diesel today in the sun. The wind was whipping about but it wasn't too too cold; even though the temperature still says Winter, the light and the smell of the air say different. Little buds are out on some of the trees. It's the perfect time to be studying Air.

Different songs came into my head as I walked: music that evokes The Winter's Tale for me - a play I hope to direct next spring. The spring-like music I have in mind for Bohemia sounds like windswept Ireland, melancholy but tinged always with hope. Other music sounds sprightly but wise - not the stupidity of blithely cheerful youth but the learned, dappled joy of rebirth at the end of a long winter.

My creative juices are flowing lately - or perhaps my creative winds are blowing. As I reached the cafe where I would sit down to work on my writing, on the play, on the ways my thoughts become breath become art, one of the air correspondences, Inspiration, occurred to me. In the next instant it occurred to me that inspiration literally means "taking in breath."

[100 days of 100 words] 40/100

The muse may be back, with the weather. Things look sharper again: colors jump, faces seem beautiful. Love sits quietly in my chest, beating a slow rhythm of contentment and gratitude. And my eyes open to words.

My last entry, I wrote for another reason, but when I checked, saw that it came to 200 words, exactly. A small thing, but makes me marvel that I should know such razor-sharp fate, such tiny, mad blessings. At the tipping point of the seasons, grace descends, its fingers, surprisingly strong, forcing open the windows.

I feel light again. I feel light again.

Any old question meme - less popular. :)

It's ask a question month on LJ, and I have an ask-me-anything post up in addition to the kinky question post. It's here.

So far, only one person's made use of it. If you comment, your question will be screened, and I'll do my best to answer it as honestly as I can, in a separate post.


What is a love of yours that other people seem to have a hard time understanding what the big deal is about? It could be anything from food, to a pastime, to a movie star...

This is going to sound untrue, but choral singing. I have been a choral singer since I was 12, and I have always loved it almost unreasonably. I love the experience of singing in a big group (or a smaller one), feeling it when the harmonies come together just right, being exposed to music that I probably wouldn't be in any other way. Being challenged. And especially, working with a great conductor - in this case, Scott Allen Jarrett. The last conductor I felt this strongly about was Garyth Nair of my Drew University undergraduate days, and the feeling of working under conductors like them is incredible. I feel incredibly driven to do well in such healthy choral environments: these conductors are powerful, talented, gentle but strong, and utterly devoted to beauty. They will accept nothing less than your best. And they will get it out of you in the most joyful and playful way possible. I don't know how to explain it except to say that I long to *please* these men - and I say men because unfortunately, I've not yet encountered a female conductor that evokes the same response from me. (Sorry, wavyarms - you're immensely talented and I love singing for you, but for me this quality seems to be contained chiefly in men. Go figure, and psychoanalyze that as you will - I know I have.) I love the feeling I get when we do something really right, especially in performance, and the conductor smiles in that particular way. I love when the chorus is so in tune that harmonics ring off the rafters. I love it when a movement dances and the choir figures that out and dances it. I love the way some music hurts. There are pieces ("Sure on this Shining Night" by Barber and "Take Him, Earth, for Cherishing" by Herbert Howells are two recent ones that come to mind) that seem to have a direct line to my tear ducts, and when I first encounter such things in rehearsal, I sometimes actually have trouble getting through them because of being choked with emotion. Then there are movements like the "Qui Tollis" in Mozart's Great Mass which are so powerful and intense that I blow out my vocal chords singing them when I still have half the mass left to sing. (Oops.) That's how I am about these things.

I have loved ones who come and see my concerts. I even have some friends (none super-close) who know music well. But I feel like I rarely encounter someone who really understands this passion of mine in the same way than I do. (Probably fanw comes closest, but she's so busy, well, singing a bunch of choral music that I rarely see her these days. ;)