More beauty!
Today was a foggy Sunday in Vancouver. We attended Catholic mass at the Holy Rosary Cathedral in downtown Van., because my cousin Marcus was playing trumpet at the services today. He is a world-class trumpeter and whenever I hear him perform, whether with the Vancouver Symphony, solo, or in a setting like this with organ accompanist, I cry big tears. He just slays me with his gorgeous sounds and elegant, honest musical playing. He is a wonderful human being and you can HEAR that in his playing, truly.
So we went to Mass, the whole family (I am not a Catholic, by the way). It turned out to be quite a moving service. The Gospel was about how we treat others, not just the people in our immediate family and circle and church, but how we treat other people in our daily lives, how we treat the needy, the homeless, the poor, the ill, the elderly, our neighbors in the literal and larger sense: not about how we treat them on Sunday through the collection plate, but how we treat them as a regular way of our being. According to this Gospel and this priest, that is what will determine who gets in to heaven.
After the service, we lit candles for special people. I lit a candle for Barry Cowsill, who is still missing after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. Barry hasn't been heard from since September 1st and his family and Cowsill fans (I am one) have been waging a campaign to find him or to find out what's happened since his last phone calls out of New Orleans. Their website is www.cowsill.com if you'd like to read about Barry and perhaps help in some way.
So I lit a candle for Barry today.
This afternoon, my aunt and I went to see a ballroom dancing demonstration. I can still see the beautiful dancers gliding by us! We were so close to them, it was something to see. They did the fox trot, quick step, waltz, rumba, samba, and of course the tango, and the jive. The youngest dancer of the six couples was 13 and most were in college at UBC. One couple has competed internationally. Truly awesome to watch them.
We walked a bit more in the fog, and tonight we drove out to the suburbs to have dinner with my cousin and his family. More music there, lots of good stories and laughter.
After a drive home in thick, thick fog, we are all sleepy and ready for bed. No before-bed swims tonight, we are all too drowsy for that.
I feel so content. I'm completely caught up on my sleep (was truly sleep-deprived in recent weeks) and the stress level is almost nil. I just don't feel it.
My recent heartbreak situation has been healing, with a resulting peacefulness in my heart.
I'll be home in four days. I miss my son and my dog and my Minnesota life, but I am so happy to have this Vancouver time. Good night! Write if you read this.
Love,
Brina in the foggy city
Beautiful Here in Vancouver, we ventured into a funky old building called the Ironworks down in Gastown tonight for jazz. The neighborhood was cloaked in heavy fog, making it feel like an old movie set. The buildings are very old and there is construction going on. There are homeless people living in this part of town and many shelters and services for them, and then there is this jazz club. It literally is an old ironworks building. Great sound in there, and the musicians were daring and didn't play it safe musically at all. The singer was Jeanette Lindstrom from Sweden, a jazz songstress and composer with a gorgeous clear voice and a variety of styles. She loves to scat sing, but she also did a Swedish hymn for us. Almost all of her songs were originals. Her lyrics are unusual, perhaps because English is not her language but she was singing them to us in English. She will write a whole song around a line: "My hands know how you feel"..."The world goes with me as I go"...phrases which we would not really say in English. Interesting. Her only cover song was a song by Horace Silver called "Peace." I can still hear it in my mind's ear. What did you do tonight? Was it foggy where you are?
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Happy in Vancouver with my family here. It's such a beautiful city and so full of life. So many different people, foods, culture, music, and the natural beauty of this city is just something I can't begin to describe.
I am here for five more days and then fly home on Thanksgiving. I hope all of my blogger friends are doing well. Travel safely, if you are heading anywhere for the holidays.
I love sleeping here, perched on the 23rd floor of a tall building over the water, just across from Granville Island. Eagles fly by my window. No kidding.
Be good, write if you are reading this!
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http://s23.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=13LAOW28EDIAY2BLERL9540UVOHere's the Allegro (fast!) movement which follows the Adagio I just posted. Again, it's from a Blavet sonata for flute and piano, very Baroque, very fun to play. Don't sleep during this one. And it goes by really quickly! Enjoy!
A present for you today: this one is pretty enough to fall asleep to, but in a different style than you've heard Sarabande do so far. This is a movement from the Sonata in G by the French composer, Michel Blavet, written in 1732. It's Baroque, and the first movement is an Adagio. Also recorded in concert in August. I think Cindy's flute sounds especially beautiful in the Baroque pieces. Let me know if you like it. Next, I'm going to post a fast movement which follows this one, so as to wake you all up! http://s23.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2T4YLTC76CMIR0G6F45DEF760C
  Book Club ladies with cats! And you thought we actually talked about books at Book Club???...can't you see, we mostly eat, talk, and play with the hostess's cats! Our book this month was one I chose, Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being, which I admit I selected for us to read because I was so taken with the film when it came out years ago (1988). It's a difficult book, which made for a good discussion. I am the Book Club lady in the bright blue blouse, with cat on lap. My friends Lori, Jane, and Nancy are the other three Book Club beauties. We meet every month on the second Monday night, and we take turns hosting. I've been so incredibly, intensely busy with my grad. school reading and projects, this was one of my only chances to see friends this month. 
"A Night Piece" by Arthur Foote, performed by Sarabande in our August concert. The very last piano solo section in the piece just slays me. I mean, I have to close my eyes, it's so gorgeous. I played it with my eyes closed, too! (not the whole piece, silly, that would be dangerous!) http://s39.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=3RG6E0X9XI82Y2WVSWJR9L4DYCPlease post if you get to download and listen. Hope you do.
Two songs whose lyrics are right for today: "Into My Heart" lyrics and music by Rachel Fuller, copyright from her CD "Cigarettes and Housework" Go to amazon.com and buy it right now, if you love good music, beautiful songwriting, clear beautiful vocals, and exquisite arrangements...that's Rachel....her lyrics say: You don't hear me, so I holler. You don't see me as I stand before you. You don't touch me when I'm lying naked. But I won't forget you, 'cos I've carved your name into my heart and into my skin. But you won't let me in. Into my head, the words that you said. But you won't let me in. But you won't let me in. You're not my leader so why do I chase you? I don't need your approval so why do I face you? I keep on hurting but I can't erase you And I dial your number again and again. 'cos you're into my heart and under my skin But you won't let me in Into your head, where I have been led. But you won't let me in. Into your heart and under your skin But you won't let me in. You're into my heart and under my skin But you won't let me in... "I've Got You Under My Skin" by Cole Porter I've got you under my skin I've got you deep in the heart of me So deep in my heart so that you're really a part of me I've got you under my skin I tried so not to give in I said to myself this affair, it never will go so well But why should I try to resist when baby, I know so well That I've got you under my skin Chorus I`d sacrifice anything come what might For the sake of having you near, In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night It repeats, repeats in my ear Don't you know little fool, you never can win Use your mentality, wake up to reality But each time I do, just the thought of you Makes me stop before I begin, 'Cause I've got you under my skin
   My hiking buddy and me in the woods this week. Love love love her.
Here's a musical link for you, only good for a certain number of downloads and something like 15 days, but some of you can get to it, I'm sure. This is Arthur Honegger's "Romance" for flute and piano, played live in concert by Sarabande (that's me on the piano and my dear friend Cindy Livingston on flute) this summer in Vermont. We discovered this rarely played piece and just fell in love with it. The interpretation is quite ours, and we were pleased with the effect. I hope you like it. Do tell, if you listen. http://s60.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2RC3Y1XMC3N5G2OLP2ZZV3OOZC
Pete T. made a little movie, just talking to the camera, this week, and we're watching it now on "In the Attic." He just said that he feels kind of poised, as in on the edge of something...an important time... I do too. His background music is Bach, sounds like Glenn Gould playing, and it's a piece I play at the piano, too, I think it's from "Art of the Fugue." Anyway, I feel strangely poised at this time too. Change...
Things about today: * It's winter. No, really, it got incredibly windy today in Minneapolis, so windy that a construction guy died when something blew over on top of him. And the wind brought our winter with it. It's freezing! * My VW Golf did need a new catalytic converter, as well as a new serpentine belt (cool name, huh?). Now that it has those things and its oil change, it drives great and I'm happy in it again. * Heartbreak actually does hurt in your heart. * Music helps.
Sometimes it takes courage to honestly say what's happening in a relationship. Tonight I'm doing that with someone who's important to me. It's hard to tell him how I really see things, but there's a release and an inner sense that it's the right thing to do. I'm waiting for it to be time to call him (different time zones are hard!). For too long in my marriage, I was willing to avoid facing the true state of things. I have learned from that, and now I'm just not able to avoid the truth, even when it hurts. I'm far from perfect, but I did learn a few things from the marriage and divorce. I'm not sure if I'm writing about a "breaking up" or a "coming together"...impossible to know at this point. But I do know that I'm unwilling to settle for less than the truth in my relationships now. I have great clarity about what is right for me in this situation. It does hurt to realize that I might "lose" this person, if only temporarily, from speaking the truth to him, but I have to do it. I think I'll sleep better once we've had this talk. I keep thinking about the phrase "speak the truth in love." I hope I can do it. Theoretically I can, but in the moment, will I lose my resolve and melt when I hear his soft voice on the phone?
  Here's my Polly! Rolling in the grass, she almost appears to have only three legs. But she has four, honestly! and is a happy dog. Po-Po has quite a past. I will write about it later today, once my homework is done!
The word for today, the word that describes my heart today, is longing. Longing seems healthy to me. It doesn't mean being constantly unhappy, brooding, only wanting what you don't have. You can be perfectly capable of enjoying the moment, of being in the joy of the moment, while holding a certain longing inside you at the same moment. At least I can. Today I did. I thoroughly loved hiking in the woods with Polly today. We had an extraordinarily fall-like day, for November in Minnesota. It was so warm, about 60 degrees, that you didn't really even need a jacket. Polly and I ran UP the hills, and on the downhills, I scuffed in the leaves for fun. We "hunted" squirrels to our hearts' content, and we also spent lots of time walking on the paths. It was a wonderful way to spend an hour. But there is a longing inside of me for my ocean and for several of my dearest people who are not here. A real longing. I tried to keep my cell phone off for most of the day. It's just too distracting. When I turned it on, there was a voice-mail message from my childhood best friend, Joanne, who was feeling a pull to her old friend. Really great to hear her. She said, "Things are going really well, but I miss my oldest friend." Sometimes I think that longing makes us appreciate people and places more. It's acute.
Some breakthroughs, I think!
Tonight I did some tai chi, with David Carradine on a video. I think I need to resume tai chi and qi gong practice, for strength, focus, and groundedness. It felt wonderful. I know that I probably can't fit in a class, so I will have to do it with the videos. But it is a good practice to help me through this particularly challenging time. I'm going to try to do either tai chi or qi gong daily. It should help. I feel energetic and good tonight, and I'm focused.
I also had a bit of a breakthrough in one of my assignments. I seem to learn some concepts better when they are visual. This is hugely surprising to me, as I have always thought of myself as distinctly unvisual. In fact, my friend J. tells me I'm the most unvisually oriented person he knows.
I think I'm a kinesthetic learner, primarily, which explains the piano, lightning-fast typing, the affinity for massage, yoga, all things tactile.
When I was very young and learning to play the piano, I used to play my pieces reading the notes, and then I'd also play the same pieces with my eyes closed. I thought it felt so cool to play the piano as if I were blind. I still love that feeling!
A little Pacifica and San Francisco history for you all: Pacifica, pictured in my post below, is an historic place, because the explorer Portola discovered San Francisco Bay from Sweeney Ridge in the area that is now Pacifica! On my next visit, I think I am going to make it a point to visit Sweeney Ridge and take some beautiful photos for you all to see. The history books tell us that: The first recorded European discovery of the San Francisco Bay was on November 4, 1769 when Spanish explorer Gaspar de Portolà, unable to find the port of Monterey, California, moored his ship close to what is now Pacifica. Portolà and an expeditionary crew of 63 men and 200 horses began an overland journey that took them to the summit of the 1200 ft. high Sweeney Ridge, where he sighted the San Francisco Bay. Sweeney Ridge is located in northern San Mateo County, California and is now a part of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area where a monument marks the discovery site. The site is listed on the National Register of Historic Places (NPS-68000022) as No. 394: Site of the Discovery of San Francisco Bay. (wikipedia)
 My beach in Pacifica, Rockaway Beach, as seen from the balcony of my favorite hotel room, in August. It really does feel as though you are sleeping ON the beach when you sleep here. Missing it, but I know I'll be back in less than two months. The ridge you can see? Both A.J. and I have climbed it!
I spent hours in the university library yesterday, quite a bit of that time at the xerox machine. Something crossed my path and it's still on my mind. Don't know if this is one of those things that only strikes ME as fascinating, or what, so I'll share it and you can tell me what you think: Ok, so I'm xeroxing an article about a psychological measure (test) of pessimism. The article is from the Journal of Counseling and Clinical Psychology Vol. 42, from 1974. The article just before this one completely caught my eye (wish I'd copied it, 'cause I can't stop thinking about it and now I want to read the whole thing). That article was a study of.... LSD flashbacks! Ok, so am I goofy here, or is that something that just would not be studied these days? in a study that ends up published in a scholarly journal? The researchers were studying LSD flashbacks, and do you know how they got their subjects (participants) for the study? They used volunteers from a college population. One group of subjects was made up of college students who had used LSD and were experiencing flashbacks; the other group was students who had used LSD and were not experiencing flashbacks. Can you imagine proposing such a study in 2005? Or recruiting volunteers? I think I will go back to the library to read that article, once I'm caught up on my coursework for this week. Huh. What do you think?
I'm afraid I am wearing myself out, but I don't know what can "give."
There aren't enough hours in my day. And even with this amount of exercise (regular dog walks plus one solo hour walking a day, plus yoga or pilates), I still end up sitting way too much and I feel heavy. The scales don't show any difference, but I feel heavy nonetheless.
But how can I do my studying and work if not in the sitting position?!
It seems to be the curse of graduate school.
I really wanted this, and I do want it, and I have to prepare myself for my next career, but eeeeeeek, it's hard.
I crave a whole morning to just go hiking. I would love that. (But am I in good enough shape? after all this sitting?)
All I can really do is keep my head above water and do a good job. I can't do "my best", I've figured that one out already.
In two more weeks, we have a Thanksgiving break from grad. school. There are two weeks "off," though the assignments are heavy during that time. I'm going up to Vancouver to visit my family for one of those weeks. Yeah! Maybe while I'm visiting up there I can find a balance of sleep, exercise, and fun, and oh yes, studying (I'll have to study while there, too). They have a swimming pool in their building; I'm already loving the thought of swimming every night before bed. Nice. And I really need my family. I can't wait to see them.
Feeling really tired out tonight. I'm going to bed before 11 p.m., which is early for me. Puppy already on her dog bed, A.J. at a friend's house, it's quiet here and I will wind down now and go to sleep.
I hope to have a clearer head in the morning. Tonight it's just not up to any more work.
Thanks for listening.
 I love my Kawai. Every day, I feel so lucky to finally have a beautiful instrument. It sings, it speaks, it is such a wonderful piano. My first grand ever, and I am so in love. I even love looking at the inside of my piano. A.J. took this shot of me playing it on Day One of its life here. It's only been here for five weeks. I still can't quite believe it.
Funny mother/son story for today: I took A.J. to the driver's license testing station to take his permit test (it's a multiple choice test on a computer). He passed. This is good! The testing place has a building, two or three oddly small parking lots, and then a bunch of "streets" which make up the course for the driving part of the test. A.J. was only there for the permit test, not the driving part, so when we were finished in the building, we went back out to the parking lot to get in the VW and drive home...or so we thought...but we had no clue how to get out of there. It was like a maze! Now you might already know this about me, but I am seriously directionally impaired. Like all of the women in my family, I can get lost in my own house. So there are often very funny things that happen in my daily life because of this, but today's was particularly side-splitting for us because we ended up driving out of the parking lot and right onto the (empty) driving test course. It has all these one-way streets and a lot of signs telling you not to enter. But we could not for the life of us figure out what street to use to get out of the whole testing center area! We drove around on that course for a while, coming to the conclusion that we were lost. It seemed hysterically funny to us both. Ultimately we were laughing so hard, I had to drive us back to the parking lot, turn off the car, and laugh until I couldn't laugh anymore. Then I waited until some other family was leaving the lot, and I followed them in a circuitous, goofy route out of there and back to civilization as we know it. The whole thing was too much fun. A.J. can take his behind-the-wheel lessons now and can begin to practice driving with...me! (I'm truly a good, safe driver, I just have no sense of direction.) I can navigate big cities like San Francisco because I study the map and I write things down and I do just fine. What's harder for me is my own territory. Ask me how to get to my neighborhood, for example. Ask me which way is North/South/East/West! (California is easier because it has the ocean to your west. Well, usually to your west, occasionally it's to your north, isn't it?) eeeek! A.J. does seem to have inherited this problem from me. I am urging him to get a map of our suburb and the Twin Cities and put it up on the wall and study it. He could create landmarks, circle his friends' neighborhoods, see where ours is in relation to those, and so on. I have met a few people who are as directionally impaired as I am. It seems to go hand in hand with a high IQ. Huh!
My little bubble of utopian safe feelings has been burst, a bit.
We have lived here in this luxury apartment complex (that's how they advertise it, "luxury apartment homes") for just over a year now. We're in a very safe new neighborhood. It's been so good to feel safe. Not to put it down, but my previous neighborhood was in the city, albeit a residential part of the city, and there was a good deal to make me nervous.
Ok, so I've been really feeling safe here and the crime stats bear me out.
Today when I came home, there were little flyers up all around our building, as well as the other three buildings of our complex, announcing a Safety Meeting for residents, management, and the police of our town (suburb, actually), next week. In the flyer it mentions topics to be discussed, and it includes "the recent carjacking."
Whaaaaaaaaaa?
I didn't know anything about a carjacking. So I went online and looked in the newspapers, and sure enough, I found out that there was a carjacking incident in the parking garage of one of the four buildings here. I don't know if it was my building or one of the other three, but these are security buildings with security underground parking garages, and yet some guy with a knife snuck up on a woman late at night Saturday night in the parking garage and forced her to get in her car with him. He drove for a few blocks, crashed the car, fled on foot, and was caught and arrested. They both had injuries.
Now we don't know how he got into the garage, or if he was a complete stranger, or what...but it is really not good that my idyllic safe feeling has been shattered.
I drive late at night quite often. I always have Polly with me, so that's good, but this is a really horrible thing to be worried about. Of course, this particular guy is now in custody. But it's the thought of it that makes me so mad. A carjacking in my garage? Not good.
A Big A!At class last night, I received a really important A. I've been getting A's on my assignments, but this was a big assignment, a research study proposal, and I'd worked very hard on it. When I handed it in two weeks ago, I wasn't sure about it, thought if only I'd had another week, it would be better...that sort of perfectionist thinking gets you nowhere in grad. school. There's so much work to do, and assignments around the corner, and projects ongoing, you really can't be a perfectionist in this course of study.
So last night we got a lot of our work handed back to us, and I was THRILLED to see that on this big assignment, I earned all 25 of the possible 25 points. I was just beaming.
The prof. wrote some really good comments on there and it fuels me for all the hard work yet ahead of me.
Just thought I'd share that good news with you. I remember being in the dumps about two weeks ago and wondering if I was going to be able to get through everything I have to do.
Guess I'm making it!
My grandfather, who helped raise us girls, was born on November 1st in 1904. He lived to be 92, and if he were still living, he'd have turned 101 yesterday. I spent a good bit of time thinking about him as I went through the day yesterday. I miss him a lot. As I became an adult, we turned out to be not just grandfather and granddaughter, but also really good friends. I was 39 when he died. He was quiet but a great storyteller. He loved to be alone in the woods, but he loved his friends and good company. He loved dogs and horses, claimed not to like cats, but they liked him! He could dance like Fred Astaire and sing like Bing Crosby. He worked really hard, and in retirement he kept his own house, did the snow-shoveling, yardwork, and gardening and took care of the shutters and roof and all that comes with a house til he was almost 90! He read ravenously and was a very good listener and advisor. And he knew me and really loved me the way I am. That's what I miss the most, but it's also what I remember the most, just the feeling of being known. We had the best talks, him in his chair and me at the old, old desk in a rather uncomfortable antique chair which, come to think of it, I am sitting in right now at my apartment!!!! I miss the way he would give me advice in his later years. Not big advice, but practical things that nobody else took the time to say to me, like "You're doing too much," or "You need more sleep, dear." Because I live in Minnesota and was raising my family here and he lived in Vermont, we had to go there if we wanted to spend time with him. I usually went for two long visits a year. Most Christmases, we would fly to Vermont, spending the holiday with Grampa. My husband (now ex) would usually fly back to Minnesota just post-Christmas, but I would stay on for an extra week, ringing in the New Year at Grampa's house. For a while there, I was with Grampa every single New Year's Eve. I would always dress up in a long dress and do my hair and makeup and put on pretty jewelry, and when I'd come into the living room all dressed up, Grampa would say the same thing every year: "Nice rig you got there!" (he was the only person I ever knew who called an outfit a "rig"!). We'd usually listen to big band music for a while, and then we would watch whatever old movie was on public TV: I think it was "An American in Paris" the last New Year we rang in together, 1995 or '96. Grampa would sometimes dance. I'm not a drinker, but Grampa would have his Scotch and would usually have poured me some for the toast. Finally it would reach midnight, we'd have our toast, a kiss and a hug, and Grampa would say, "Well, m'dear...." and get set for bed. His house was so quiet. I was a little girl in that house and I still dream about it. Once we had A.J., he too would love spending that extra week in Vermont with his Grampa. A.J. and Grampa Marvin had a special bond. I think A.J. resembles his great-grandfather quite a bit, and when I see similar traits in A.J., I smile. A.J. has that quiet confidence and the sort of ease with people, and the love of animals, of course. He remembers that Gramps called him "Old Timer," as in, "How'd ya sleep, Old Timer?" at the breakfast table every morning. A.J. was so little when Grampa started that ritual, and he tells me now that he didn't really know what "Old Timer" meant, but he liked being called that anyway. Huh.
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He married the most wonderful woman, who is perfect for him. Their love story is the thing that novels are made of...and it inspires me and gives me such happiness.
