It’s a Sunday morning, and I am home alone. The weekend was more chaotic than usual, with our gig in New Haven Friday bringing us home very late (for this gal), and an early rising on Saturday to take my 11 y-o to District Orchestra auditions in Westfield, then same child to Springfield Museums for a big Suzuki event, then our Local Chorus concert at the UU church for Northampton’s Holiday stroll. Dear friends took our kids last night so that Tom and I could celebrate our anniversary. It was 14 years ago that we met, and all of this life we have now was set in motion. It’s a more significant date to us than our wedding anniversary. At the time of our meeting, I was heavily into astrology (!!!!!) and knew how to cast birth charts. You don’t need to know anything about astrology to understand the uncanniness of this fact: when one combines Tom’s chart and my chart, the “rising sign” corresponds to the date we met. Not only that, his sun (Aries) is directly above my moon, and my sun (Gemini) is above his. Kinky, right?
I love performing so much. I don’t feel like myself when I go too long between performances. On Friday night, Katryna could NOT stop talking between songs. I think we both need this outlet. And yet. MAN. Even a tiny little drive (80 miles?) and a late night return wrecks my body and mood for two whole days. I wish wish wish wish wish there were a way to perform regularly without the travel aspect. When are they going to invent apparition for non-wizards? We clearly need to create a podcast. The question is: what would we talk about? Besides everything. Maybe we could have a singing podcast. Which would end up being mostly talking.
There was a coyote barking last night. The sound is harrowing. Our neighbor saw it in the neighborhood a few days ago, and we are worried about our dog. It’s a gloomy, grey day, and the light that infused me from yesterday’s Local Chorus concert is dimmed by thoughts of my dear ones who are struggling with illness. Their stories are not mine to tell, but suffice it to say I am filled with concern and sadness and grief. Sometimes the world just seems too heavy, and today is like that. I had a really good cry on the couch with Tom. He said, “We will do this together.” That’s all I need.
The foundation is almost done, and yesterday the excavators dug out the space for the screened porch. The new building fills the width of our backyard now, leaving exactly the footage for us to clear the city’s codes. I am a bit shocked at the desolate scene, and part of why I need to write this blog is to remind myself why I am doing this. Why I am trying to justify the destruction of all those trees and grass, forever changing the landscape of my kids’ backyard AKA childhood. It’s one thing to mourn the changes in the earth and planet which are beyond our control. It’s quite another to be a hands-on perpetrator (I write this knowing full well that we are all hands-on perps; but there’s a difference between buying the chicken in the plastic at the store and screwing the head off of a live one. The former is no better–arguably worse––than the latter, but way less traumatizing for the perp.)
My amazing sister Katryna is spending Advent giving away her gift. She’s singing for free at schools, homes, day cares, wherever. And to whomever asks. I love this. I love her. She’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know. Last night, she texted me and said, “I don’t have a music give-away today. Can I do something in your Local Chorus concert?” So she shook her shaker egg to “Home” and “We Know the Way” and supported the chorus in “Hamilton” and our four peace rounds. As she would say, there’s this crazy quilt in the world right now, full of nasty squares, each of which saddens or terrifies. What can we do? Make a new little square. Ours is about singing and writing. So today I will go to my friend Matilda’s service at Smith Vespers and listen to the students lift their voices and instruments. I will lift my own.
PS: What even is this blue stuff?