Eileen is off to Fiber Fest with a friend.
Yesterday I spent some time organizing books in Sarah’s old room. I’m planning to do more of that today. Also Farmers Market, prep for tomorrow’s church and do some planning. Probably too many tasks for a Saturday, but we’ll see.
I just discovered this group. I don’t know what instrument they are playing in this video, but I think it’s cool. Somebody posted the following video on Facebooger.
I really like the energy and playfulness in it and the music.
I know they have been around a while since I recognize some of their tunes after doing a little exploring.
Eileen just walked back in the house with the (very very) early mail which included my copy of Amiri Baraka’s poetry I ordered recently. Cool. Her ride hasn’t arrived yet.
It made me realize that the asides in Finnegans Wake have a debt to this masterpiece. I think I will put a copy near my chair to start reading once I have finished something I am reading now.
I continue to enjoy my daily reading in Finnegans Wake. It’s the first thing I pick up in the morning and I read it aloud. I get a lot out of a cold read. Then I read about the passage in Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake by Campbell and Robinson and see if I agree with their interpretation. Of course their footnotes are helpful since I know some but not all of the languages and references Joyce makes. Few people would probably get everything.
I seem to be in an ebullient mood this morning. Yesterday I bogged down and lost all motivation for everything but alternating reading, Facebooger and playing piano. I didn’t make it to church. I don’t think I could face church yesterday. I had a fun moment with my piano student. He is studying Scriabin’s 14th prelude in Eb minor from Opus 11 .
He doesn’t play it as fast as this performance. But he is getting the notes and rhythms. The piece is in an odd time signature for the time: 15/8. Scriabin divides the beat in five parts. In the second complete measure, he disrupts the rhythm in an elegant way. I told my student, I think it’s a feeling of abandonment.
He was puzzled, so I sat down and played it for him the way I was hearing it. I told him it was a more direct communication than a word and that it was the kind of communication he makes when he performs a piece.
It was a nice moment.