wake up! time to die!



I attempted to watch Blade Runner while treadmilling yesterday. This time Netflix only failed once. I do like this hokey movie. Roy’s death scene alway moves me.

Something about the transience of life.

Earlier just before he is shot, Leon the replicant lightly slaps Decard’s face and says, “Wake up! Time to die!”

Wake up! Time to die!

Besides being enamored of the theme of the fleeting nature of being alive, I love the pictures this movie makes. Great flick.

Eileen soon joined me in watching it, sitting a chair next to the treadmill.

There was an odd moment at church yesterday during the prelude. It seemed as though (contrary to my expectation) there were actually some people listening closely to the little partita I performed on CRIMOND. Later my cellist remarked that she had listened carefully and enjoyed it confirming my impression that someone was actually listening.

I came home and obsessed about the difference between my bank balance and my ledger balance. Good nuttiness for Sunday afternoon. The bank seems to think I have about 1K more dollars than I do. Yikes.

Tomorrow I play the April birthday party at my Mom’s assisted living facility.

I will plan out a 45 minute program today. Am thinking of playing a Brahms piece, then a Satie piece, then my little “One Page Essay” which moves from a Brahms treatment of a melody to a Satie treatment of the same melody. The point being that these very differently lyrical composers were actually alive and composing at the same time in the late 1890s.

Plus both have exerted an influence on me.

We’ll see about playing this tomorrow. It’s kind of esoteric for an audience that is listening for “I come to the garden alone.”

Still pondering Chinese, Japanese and Ezra Pound poetry. It fits nicely into a Blade Runner meditation on the ephemeral nature of life.

Salutation O generation of the thoroughly smug and thoroughly uncomfortable, I have seen fishermen picnicking in the sun, I have seen them with untidy families, I have seen their smiles full of teeth and heard ungainly laughter. And I am happier than you are, And they were happier than I am; And the fish swim in the lake and do not even own clothing. Ezra Pound

I used the word, “ephemeral,” yesterday describing the tenuous connection I sometimes make between hymn tunes in service and pieces (like the partita) I play on them. My boss said she was sorry she had switched the hymn. I told her I actually thought her choice was a better one than mine since I assumed my little Episcopalian community would know CRIMOND somewhat. My boss substituted another setting of psalm 23, RESIGNATION, a lovely American tune.

I do find that more than one mind often makes a wiser decision.

Yesterday was Good Shepherd Sunday. Hence all the sheep stuff.

I am trying to purge my mind of church pathology with the Mao bio I am reading and Chinese/Japanese/Ezra Pound poetry. I have a stack of worn paperbacks sitting right next to me.

Pound's mug shot when he was arrested for supporting the Italian Fascists.

I read several chapters in the ABC of Reading by Pound yesterday. I can see what a blustering phony he is and also how much his ideas have influenced my thinking. ┬áI’m not sorry about that. Some beautiful ideas.

I’ll end with a quote:

“Partisans of particular ideas may value writers who agree with them more than writers who do not, they may, and often do, value bad writers of their own party or religion more than good writers of another party or church.

“But there is one basis susceptible of estimation and independent of all questions of viewpoint.

“Good writers are those who keep the language efficient. That is to say, keep it accurate, keep it clear. “

Ezra Pound, The ABC of  Reading [link to Google books]

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  1. I think I fixed this. Sometimes when I put a large picture in, it increases the column width automatically to compensate and I don’t always notice. Thanks.

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