Leavenworth

I am now enjoying my long-anticipated vacation, but I was surprised yesterday evening to find myself feeling lonely, not knowing what to do with myself. I just needed a little time to adjust, and am now fully enjoying the time for myself, though I find myself wanting to call home more often than I need to.

This place is so beautiful--rolling hills, green trees and grass, with many varieties of birds to watch. I am not a "bird-watcher" per se, but could become one, I think. This morning at breakfast I watched several birds eat at feeders outside the restaurant. Their social behavior is fascinating--cardinal pairs feeding each other, blue jays hogging the feeder, males puffing themselves up. I suppose humans are fascinating in the same way.

There are four horses in the pasture overlooked by my deck. I enjoy observing them and their interactions. They stick together, following each other around. Earlier they were all napping in the sun, two standing, two lying down like dogs. I had thought that horses always sleep standing, but I was apparently mistaken. I wonder whether they have a schedule they follow, moving to different areas for shade and sun and moist grass as the sun moves.

I am spending some time getting to know the fingerboard again, starting with Schradieck. I usually skip over the first exercises, but today I discovered with alarm that even those are difficult for me now. Intonation and evenness are my goals. Later I'll work on some Tartini bowing exercises, to remind my arm where each string is. It's almost humiliating to need this, but I will benefit from it.

As I was practicing the Schradieck, I saw the date markings made by my teacher that summer at Meadowmount, Mrs. Vamos. It brought back a flood of memories. I remember being terrified of my teacher, because my violinist uncle had made some offhand remark about teachers there making passes at their students. I was young--13--and took most things literally. I kept waiting for her to do something inappropriate, which of course she never did. I think it got in the way of my really learning from her. Other memories also sprang from that memory, like Sarah Kwak, the Curtis student that lived with us for six years when I was younger, and who had a nickname from Meadowmount--"Spider Crackers"-- which she had put on a t-shirt. I asked her to explain it to me every time she wore it, but she always refused. What an annoying kid I must have been!

Isn't it funny how memories work in cascades?

Countdown to solitude

I am counting down the hours until my vacation. For a few days my temper was fairly high--I think I was terrified that something would prevent me from taking my trip, which I need so badly. I have determined that I am definitely going regardless of my fears of disaster falling upon the household while I'm away, and I'm letting go of those fears so that I can truly rest during this well-deserved break. This means trusting that my daughter's cold will be satisfactorily handled by my husband, that he will make good decisions regarding his own health and rest, and that they really can get along ok without me for a few days.

I've been spending some time downloading music to feed my soul while I'm gone--Beatles, Mahler, Edgar Meyer, Anonymous 4, my friend's harp music. I intend to really take care of myself, to nourish my body and soul.

Lost in Bruckner

Last night we performed Bruckner's eighth symphony, a mammoth work of four movements that lasts about an hour and a quarter. It felt like one of the best performances of my career--a few minor errors here and there on my part and elsewhere in the orchestra, but overall a fantastic, electrifying concert. The audience was our captive, seeming to hold their collective breath even between movements. When we finished, exhausted and sweaty, they rose to their feet shouting bravos, looking transported.

The piece is, according to Mario's interpretation, a searching for answers which do not immediately appear, but when hope is lost, the answer is revealed in a great triumph of ecstasy. This interpretation is linked to Bruckner's ardent Catholicism, his use of hymns to Mary, his almost mystical approach to religion. While I do not share these beliefs, I share the searching for answers and not finding them, losing hope, finding hope.

The orchestra itself is going through a period of loss--a member lost his wife a few weeks ago, others lost parents, our bass trombonist is retiring early for scary medical reasons. I think that these real life events push us as a group to instill more power into our music-making. Music is real--it has a tangible effect on humans. It can make us cry, laugh, unite, wonder. I feel that we transcended our daily grind approach to the job with last night's concert, and while I doubt that we can maintain that for long, I look forward to tonight.

Out of practice

Our garage project is getting closer to being done. The rest of the drywall will be installed on Sunday, then finished soon after. I'm amazed at how long this whole process is. It was last July that I first contacted Make-A-Wish, and I think the project might just be finished in less than a year. It's mainly the construction work, which is our responsibility which has taken up the time. We originally thought that MAW would pay for the work, but when we found out they wouldn't, it took us a while to get a plan of action. Anyway, with a lot of help, we are now on the brink of seeing it come to fruition!

My recent promotion, in combination with the changing dynamic (pardon the pun) at work, is causing me some stress. I enjoy the challenge, but at the same time am burdened by fears that I am not quite meeting that challenge. I am more prepared for rehearsals more of the time, but not always. These last few weeks we are playing very difficult music--Nielsen's 6th symphony and Bruckner's 8th. Even with practice time, I feel myself struggling. I need to make more time to practice and also let go of the tension which is causing my muscles to seize up. I've been having some trouble with my reflexes--the connection from my eyes to my brain to my hands is not smooth. I suspect that stress is the culprit. My stressors are not likely to go away, so I need to find a way to live with them in peace. I've set aside some time next week to get away, and I plan to use some of that time to sleep, meditate and practice.