I sometimes say that composers look at music differently, that they see how it works. But I’m convinced that just by enjoying music a very similar connection happens with most listeners and performers.
I have often pointed out to musicians who say they don’t understand music theory that they understand the music, that they can tell when themes recur, when harmonies are moving in new directions or on their way to resolution.
Maybe composers are a bit more interested in how the music works. Or at least in the mundane tools used to make it work. But I remain a bit skeptical. that others do not understand music with the same depth.
I feel like I’m stuck in the never ending story of retirement now. I am beginning to think beyond the church music chapter of my life. In fact that’s where I would like to live. But I have some hoops left to jump through in order to extricate myself from my church gig.
Granted, I could have walked away. But I would not like to let down my boss and the community in that way. I just want out.
I’m beginning to wonder about the next step for me. It feels like a time of incubation. I have found that I jinx myself by talking too much about what is happening inside me when I think about making things. So I’m not going to speculate here.
One of my current goals is to finish some goddam books. I sometimes have a tendency to read many books at once and even forget which books that I am reading. I would like to finish several books soon so that i can start up some new ones.
I read in my John Szwed’s bio of Miles Davis this morning. I continue to be pleasantly surprised how Szwed understands musical trends I lived (and am living) through. I’m on page 316 of 407.
I’m nearing the end of a couple of novels.
I’m on page 558 of 746 in Bulter’s Lilith’s Brood.
Page 369 (at least) of 443 in Zadie Smith’s On Beauty.
I say “at least” because I somehow lost my place. I’m sure that I made it to page 369 and will resume reading there.
I have been keeping Butler and Smith upstairs by my bed. I brought them down this morning with the hope I could chip away a bit at them.
Tomorrow’s scheduled “date day” is postponed until Thursday. We are expecting Steven Frayer-Isaacson and his husband Jeremy for a visit tomorrow. We haven’t seen him since he was in grade school. It should be fun. But no reading.