Wishful thinking

A recent article in the Seattle Times focused on the home and lifestyle of two people that I don't know personally but have a lot of musical friends in common with. It made me think about all the ideas we had for our little Mt. Vernon house (824 sq. ft., the home in the article is 880) and how I want to have a cozy small home that nonetheless has room for parties, sessions, and guests. And how I want that home to have a beautiful, functional garden that evolves gracefully over the years, even though both William and I are (slowly) working on having income that doesn't require us to be in one place all of the time. How I want to be able to whip up charming little touches for that house and garden, although my crowning DIY garden achievement to date is a wobbly fence made out of poultry netting, broomsticks, and wire and my idea of interior decorating is lining up my rock collection on the windowsills.

So - will there someday be a magical transformation in my 'home-making' (gah!) abilities? Or should I just be content with what I have and not try to be someone different?

Whistle Lake, Anacortes, WA

These are really not my best, but...here they are anyway. Next time I go for a hike in the rain with a camera I'm bringing an umbrella and a tripod.

Fiddle musings

I just had a lesson with the amazing Irish fiddler James Kelly. I consider myself a reasonable fiddler - not the greatest, but not the worst either. I have good tone, I know a few hundred tunes, I can get through a set of tunes without getting lost, and I can play for several hours without being stiff or in pain the next day. William and I lead sessions regularly and have been doing so for several years; to be able to lead a session, you have to have your act together and we are pretty good at that.

But, I don't have the kind of detail I need, and this lesson proved it. We spent the majority of the time working on my playing at a very small level: slowing down rolls and triplets, changing bow strokes to let the rhythm come through, softening my bow arm so I'm relaxing into the ornaments instead of tightening up in anticipation of them. At the very end, we got into actually playing a tune so that I could start applying some of what we had been talking about. I am not going to completely change how I play but I am going to be doing more exercises than tune playing for a while. I want to be in control of my playing and be able to make it come out the way I hear it in my head, and that's going to take a lot of thinking, a lot of listening, and a lot of work.

Auditions and visitations

Yesterday William and I went out to 'audition' to play for an upcoming event. They want background music for a couple of hours and while generally I wouldn't be inclined to go out of my way to prove that I can play the piano, it was actually nice to get a chance to try their instrument out and get a feel for the space.

Then, we went down to Seattle to visit a friend's mother who's in rehab after falling and breaking her hip about 3 weeks ago. She's doing well and will hopefully be home before Christmas, and we had a pleasant visit discussing traveling and mutual friends. We went up to Capitol Hill for dinner and to walk around a bit...if we ever get to be the kind of people who maintain houses in two locations, I'd vote for an apartment there. It's probably nothing but car horns and sirens and people stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning, but there are bookstores and art stores and clothing stores and restaurants, and the people-watching opportunities can't be beat. I lived in that general area for a few months in 1997-98 - and, there's a whole 'nother post for the future right there: What Might Have Happened If I'd Stayed In Seattle. Ah well.

Slightly obsessed

I did something today that I swore I'd never do: I got up at 6 am to go to a regular swim practice (the special early morning ones that I've been to before don't count; we get coffee and muffins after those). I did this because I was promised that we would work on my breaststroke. We did in fact work on it, and now I have a mantra that goes like, "head down-elbows up-back straight-bottom down-knees in-feet out". Easy!

I just read an article on Early Vertical Forearm.

I have to restrain myself from telling people that my 100 IM time yesterday was two seconds faster than my time from the meet two weeks ago.

I am tentatively planning to be in the pool Saturday morning at 7 am.

Why not?

It's December, and look, I'm posting! I think I'll try to keep it up for a bit, maybe just on weekdays. I'm writing quite a bit as it is and it will be nice to look back in a year or so.

So, moving. This year has been unbelievably frustrating in so many ways, and unbelievably rewarding in others. We really wanted to settle in the Pacific Northwest and it just is not happening; work opportunities are not coming together the way we hoped they would and we are living off our savings right now. But! From another point of view, we just had a year to do practically anything we wanted to. I wanted to play chamber music, work on my photography, and join a swim team, so I did. William wanted to perform classical guitar recitals, work on electronic music, and do a bunch of writing, so he did. How can we possibly call this year a waste?

I'm looking forward to Tulsa. I swore up and down that I'd never go back after I graduated from high school...it's been 20 years, so that certainly counts as a nice long break. But, after my friend Leeanna died in July (it's still hard to type that, or even think about it for very long), I started thinking about family and friends, and suddenly I really wanted to be closer to the people I grew up with. My former piano teacher has offered to help with networking and referrals, so finding work should be much easier. My dad is the former president of the farmer's market and he's still very involved with what they're doing, and there's a wonderful organic-local-sustainable scene in the area. I have several good friends there who have known me for a long, long time - and they still like me for some reason. My intuition is telling me that this is a good thing and I am not going to fight it.