Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Lovely Lovely Lovely

I like someone and I told him, and he did not react negatively. I am so happy.

Saturday, July 18, 2009


Old black man on a bike next to the driveway of Safeway and Longs: "A most beautiful woman, wearing a purple shirt!"

Me passing by after buying some shuttlecocks: "'s yellow?"

Man: "Oh pardon me! I'm color blind! That is yellow, like a flower. I wish I was a bumblebee!"

Me: (Laughs, keeps walking)

I'm not gonna lie, I loved it.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Bolero of Life

Bolero is pretty much Maurice Ravel's most famous and infamous piece. It's in 3, starts with a simple "1...5, 1...5" in the pizzicato bass, triplet patterns in the snare soon to follow. An innocent, long-phrased melody emerges, obviously one of the first lessons you learn about life. Clarinet repeats it, it's true. The harp embellishes the pizzicato backgrounds. We're here for you.

The bassoon provides an alternative viewpoint. It's true what they said before. But there's another reason it's true. Confused, we hear the clarinet in its upper octave. Yes, the bassoon was right. You just weren't ready to hear it before. Horns join the snare.

The oboe states the beginning theme. Remember this truth. Flute and trumpet take the second paragraph. It is the one truth. Trumpet, once the vessel of truth, joins the snare again.

Next is the alto sax, siding with the bassoon. Don't you forget the truth.

Yes, yes, we've heard this all before. Here comes the alto sax again with that same stupid melody...what? A piccolo above, harmonizing in perfect fourths? Flute in the middle...I see that we are now ready to embellish even more that one simple lesson from the beginning. Trombone enters with that second idea like a king, the king of your consciousness. Woodwinds agree as a chorus. They are loyal to their king. Don't you ever forget the words of your king.

Strings finally have something to say. It's what we've been thinking the entire time. They've tired of only serving as background to the ideas. It's time for their statement. And it only takes one phrase to deliver it embellished with harmony. In the distance, the trumpet agrees with that same contrasting view. The king sits in his throne and lets the court take over. A melody to live by.

The first true forte emerges. Percussion and brass abound. The king steps up and speaks to his loyal subjects. The world has never felt so right, but then my consciousness changes key and all is chaos.

I think when I die, Bolero will be in the background of my life's montage. I'm not sure what my single truth is, but it seems to keep coming back in different forms, fancier and louder each time.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Terrible and Wonderful

I saw his van three times today. The first time it passed me by--he was driving it in the opposite direction as I headed off to the Crabs game. I parked my own van on the 11th street bridge.

The second time was after the Crabs game ended. I needed to trade my trumpet and music bag for my purse to get a drink or two (I wish I'd only bought one) at the Alibi with some friends. His van was parked on the other side of the bridge. I took my time switching gears and constantly looked around in case he happened to be heading back.

The third time was after the Alibi--still parked on the bridge across from my van. I'd purchased a veggie burrito from a taco truck a few blocks down. Shamefully and shamelessly I consumed the burrito in my driver's seat and watched for him to return to his own vehicle. He didn't.

I ripped out a page from the spiral-bound notebook I carry and hastily scribbled out a poem I remembered reading in seventh grade. Folding it into quarters I wrote "For You" on the outside and stuck it into the handle of his door.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

I got up at 4:45am and all I got was this stupid blog entry

Something in my bed is eating me alive!

I first noticed a tiny itchy bite on my arm a few days ago. The next day, there were three on my stomach. Now there are a few on my leg and they itch like crazy. Sucks.

Today (night?) was the full moon. I saw it up high in the sky around midnight, and read that the moon would be full at 5:33am. I wanted to see it set over the foggy horizon--I've found a really great place to watch things set. So I left the house at 5am to get there, and I didn't see the damn moon anywhere. I didn't know the moment of fullness happens after it's fallen out of sight, I must have missed that part.

But you know, I'd forgotten how much I love being awake the early morning. The world is still asleep except for the birds. They're like the youngest campers in the cabins the first morning of camp...chit-chatting like nobody else around is trying to sleep. Except people here have windows and it shuts out the sounds so the birds can talk as loud as they want.

The world breathes extra loud in the dawnish hours--it's a noise that, if it's not always happening, is somehow extra evident that early. Like being the first person awake at a slumber party. Everyone is breathing the whole time, but you're never made aware until it's the only noise available. So even if I didn't see the moon, I got to listen to the world sleep and watch the city of Eureka sparkle wearily across the bay.

I just made a playlist of all the clarinet music I have. This is what I've got:

Aaron Copland: Concerto for Clarinet, Strings, Harp and Piano
Johannes Brahms: Clarinet Trio in a minor, Opus 114 [Clarinet, piano, cello]
Giacomo Setaccioli: Sonata for Clarinet and Piano in E-flat Major, Opus 31
Darius Milhaud: Duo Concertant [I really REALLY want to play this! Why has nobody done this at my school? Just because it has fast arpeggios and high notes? Boo-hoo, welcome to Woodwind Land.]
Copland: Sonata for Clarinet and Piano
Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco: Sonata for Clarinet and Piano Opus 128 [This was my big piece I worked on last semester--so crazy hard, but I felt like a champion when I practiced stumbling through the fast movements]
Brahms: Sonata in f minor, Opus 120/1 [A definite yes for my upcoming recital in the fall...I am in love with this piece.]
Leonard Bernstein: Sonata for Clarinet and Piano
W.A. Mozart: Concerto for Clarinet K. 622
Nino Rota: Sonata in D for Clarinet and Piano
George Gershwin: Three Preludes for Piano (arranged for piano and clarinet by James Cohn)
Brahms: Sonata in E-flat Major, Opus 120/2
Carl Neilsen: Concerto for Clarinet and Orchestra, Opus 57 (FS 129)
Morton Gould: Benny's Gig for Clarinet and Double Bass [I was thinking of doing this with my friend who plays tuba.]
Mario Pilati: Inquetude (Etude Melodique)
Ralph Vaughan Williams: Six Studies in English Folksong
Nicolas del Grazia: Tarantella

Total: 4.3 hours of clarinetty goodness.

Some recordings I don't have: Sonata for clarinet and piano by Saint-Saens, both Spohr concertos, Premiere Rhapsodie by Debussy, Three Pieces for Solo Clarinet by Stravinsky, Ebony Concerto by Stravinsky, and all the foofy stuff by Weber. Honestly Weber can keep his concertos, concertino and duo concertant. Merh. I've got more expressive fish to fry!

I've also got a bit of jazzy clarinet, but that gets its own playlist later in life.