Mushroom
The quiet voices hummed behind the maples.
In the woods behind the old factory houses,
I was trudging up the rooty path. The sun
Had just gone golden at the edge of the hill’s crest.
D Major. F sharp minor. G major. A major.
“Shoompa shoompa shoompa DING!”
D Major. F sharp minor. G major. A major. As if I’d forget. What if I forget?
EPIC
______________
The first time is hard to remember. Not because I ever forgot it. But it exists for me only in patches of sound and smell, flashbulbs in the darkness, disjunct pictures burned into a mind shut tight.
Annie my sister lands in Detroit on Friday morning. I’ll pick her up and we’ll head south, through flat Ohio and mountainous Pennsylvania. Playlists and snacks will get us to Virginia and a family’s warm guest room. Saturday, we’ll board the Metro early to join the other marchers. I have never…
JOURNEY IN WINTER
I know we are in for it when I see the dress.
The whole topic of dress is loaded in the business of classical performance. When it comes to concert attire, there’s this incredible amount of energy that goes into instructing and shaming and judging classical performers, and women…
We stand in the rain in a long line
waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work.
You know what work is — if you’re
old enough to read this you know what
COLLABORATION AT A DISTANCE: A DISPATCH FROM DVAC
In which we discuss video platforms, sound files, obsessive re-recording, spouses walking behind you within camera range — as well as what we miss about live studio instruction, what remote instruction is teaching us, and how we’re prepared to move forward with — surprise —…
It’s warm, nutritious, rich, and makes you feel loved.