Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Earlier today I realized that I have too many books.
Books authored by moi
in pencil, blue, black, occasional Sharpie with differing styles of penmanship:
The angsty teenager, the newlywed
(who remains an angsty teenager),
suicidal undergraduate,
the twenty-two year old who never truly celebrated turning twenty-one,
explorer of the world's religions, quoting the Good Word
or The Hymn of the Week.
Then there is the quarter-of-a-centurion
questioning, doubting and fucking up royally.
All of these are regular contributors to the books:
one is the book of favorite poems with randomly interspersed calorie inventories,
two is a sampling of original writings from said author,
three is a book of lists
four is lists but with the added bonus of sporadic statements about life
and fearsdreamsfantasies
beer labels attached from summer vacations
tickets and other artifacts
that don't seem so significant otherwise.
But there they are, in a book.
Walking down the street today I realized
that my life is scattered about in too many books.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

there's that snow again

Woke up this morning to MORE snow. In a previous post I lauded snow as a quiet, meditative blanket dampening the world with peace.

Now I am sick of the @#$^.

I had a great week though, thanks to the snow. I got two days off from teaching and I didn't use it to practice. I spent Wednesday shoveling the white stuff with a friend and then we rewarded ourselves with some good Wisconsin food and beer at the Old Fashioned. I am a huge fan of their $2.50/9 pitcher of their beer of the month. This month it is the Goat Shagger Scotch Ale. The name concerns me, but the beer was great.

Thursday I got to do some cleaning and planning. Planning takes up a large portion of each day. Once I get all my lessons rolling along, there won't be much time to think. At the moment, I am taking time to think. I tend to get into a routine of doing things and I don't sit and breathe; I feel guilty if I am not constantly doing something. I am trying to break that habit. For once in my life, I feel like I am making some progress toward understanding my life plan. It really helps.

SG is sleeping next to me on the couch and B is still upstairs sleeping. I am just going to sit and recover from a symphony weekend and a rather boisterous performance of the Symphonic Dances from West Side Story. I love playing the piece when it isn't a train barreling out of control. But I guess the best part of going to La Crosse is my car pool buddies.

That and the world's largest six pack of beer.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

reading in the snow

Now i lay(with everywhere around)
me(the great dim deep sound
of rain;and of always and of nowhere)and
what a gently welcoming darkestness--

now i lay me down(in a most steep
more than music)feeling that sunlight is
(life and day are)only loaned:whereas
night is given(night and death and the rain

are given;and given is how beautifully snow)

now i lay me down to dream of(nothing
i or any somebody or you
can begin to begin to imagine)

something which nobody may keep.
now i lay me down to dream of Spring