chestnut trees, dancing, and the cello-y life
I keep thinking about some Yeats I read a while back. Labour is blossoming or dancing where The body is not bruised to pleasure soul. Nor beauty born out of its own despair, Nor blear-eyed wisdom…
Emily Wright
knifin’ around: how I went crazy because of a sliver of wood
When I was taking flying lessons, I joined the Cessna Diamond Club. That’s the group of pilots who have a perfect diamond-shaped scar on their foreheads from walking into the trailing edge of the wing, usually in preflight checklist haste.…
my own little walden
I’m a city girl. I’m an escapist. I love road trips. Maybe it doesn’t matter how I begin this stupid post. To put it bluntly: I love this city but hate this apartment. I was in such a hurry…
memorial day, 2012
Excerpted from Rupert Brooke’s sonnet 1914: III : The Dead Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world…
on music, service, and making things right.
What the hell is going on around here, anyway? Where am I? Teaching? Playing? Dancing? Hiding under the sofa? All that, and more, my friends. So I went to Hopkins. No, wait. Let’s go back. In LA,…
rainy day
Everyone knows this picture, a demonstration of the lengths we’ll go to preserve a delicate instrument. Don’t know about you, but I find this to be more along the lines of accurate. It’s been really rainy lately.
half-life
This poor blog! Withering and fading from neglect. It’s been a combination of frenetic activity, other priorities, and to be truthful, not having much to say (that would be appropriate for this venue, at least). Still, I don’t mind a…
nice hat.
As a kid, I was no stranger to being bullied. I was as weird then as I am now, only smaller, with a better vocabulary and the optimistic assurances of those around me that things improve once you get…
better late than never
Finally whipped up the next 2 chapters in the YouTube series previewing AMCM. Recorded in the conservatory of the Josephine Butler center here in DC.
idle chatter
I was talking to a friend of a friend the other day and the inevitable question came up: “What do you do?” These days, there are few things I don’t do- and before you say at least I’m not resorting…