MUSIC

and meaning.

Just returned from Don Giovanni. Mozart was truly a genius to combine such harmonies, melodies and musical elaborations within the structure of such a coy libretto.

(There is a woman in the states who thinks she's the reincarnation of Wolfie himself. Dresses like him. Has a 'Stanze' girlfriend. It was an embarrasing doc(moc)umentary to watch.)

Music.

Has always been in my life. Has saved my life. Is drama. Is meaning. Is salvation.
I remember strolling around school music rooms, picking up this instrument and that; at once wanting to play them all. I settled on violin in junior high school, clarinet after that, and a brief love affair with the glockenspeil and the snare drum, in that order. It was suggested I would be a match for the French horn, which I immediately snubbed on account of it being forced upon me. I wanted the music maker to call out to me. As it should. Still have a love affair with the violin and clarinet. Haunting, them sounds. Piano was also a love, but never got the lessons. Have to start young, I think. Still enjoy tinkering. Learned this once, painstakingly. Slowly. Bach destroys me. But who has time for these things when you're studying ancient languages. I miss it. I truly do. The theatre, the music, the opera singing. I need another lifetime.

See Don Giovanni.

Last October I was priveleged to be in New York and visited museums such as the Pierpont Morgan Library where they had a collection of Mozart's original notation. I poured over it for long pauses of scintillating imaginary glimpses into handwriting analyses, wishing I'd known his rumoured flirtatious ways, was able to inspire a few notes, a few glances. Surely this is fantasy. Incredible seeing his works so close. I should still be there.

Borrowed. And art.

Borrowed.
Fantastic.

I on the other hand am wilting under the weights of things. Check back in about a month when I can lift my head (hopefully filled with more delights of ancient languages). My memory isn't what it used to be. I am mustering strength for memorization. Strength for research job. Strength!

Art.

Wow. Yes, those are bronze nipples. How is it possible to be hot for a statue found at the bottom of the sea, made circa 450BC.

Riace Warrior A rocks the contrapposto.

This intensive latin summer class is going to kill me.

In the works

Reflections on speaking with a friend about living in Lebanon, in Syrian occupied Lebanon, through her youth. On feeling ridiculously uninformed. On being reminded that I am a poet and have a gift for words. Here is a first draft. Emotion draft.

(draft)

On Losing Lebanon

gravity compels me to lie down
depressed by apathy
foam impresses my slack body

No, I am not dead
nor am I alive

in my fridge the pears are rotting
a cold turn of skin
a shrinking of a softness or a feeling of a shrinking of a softness
a reduction rather
the demands of its nature

I do not eat the pears because I am not hungry or I do not eat the pears because I do not have to

I am naked in front of the mirror
and cannot conceive of your gentle skin
proved thicker than mine through Phoenician time

we are only the same when horizontal
or we are only horizontal

Foiled Again

I was expecting 1500 in a tax return that would see me through til the end of the summer and let me continue taking my intensive class four days a week til July.

The taxman wants near all or all of it. Already took 650 off the top.

I need some superhero help.

Is there a superhero taxman that GIVES money back? Or is this to be yet another summer where I scrape and starve?

To do

Feed the birds. Hear them sing.

Thinking of taking this one day course offered at McGill this summer (next week, I think). Anyone heard of it? Harris institute speedreading...

I think it will help me clarify my essay writing as well. But maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Marks are in! A, A, A-, and B (not sure what happened with that last one. Whatever).

CanPo at the Atwater, and other random things

Went to the Atwater Library today for a workshop on urban gardens (rooftop, parking lot, etc. Neat!) and while there I asked about their CanPo section, as I'd heard it was fabulous and extensive. There was -one-row-. That said, there were some pretty tasty selections and I plan to do this: each Saturday or Sunday spend one hour reading one of the books, perhaps in order. I need to get some reading in. Been awhile since I indugled in some CanPo. Too busy with the languages.

I have to learn Latin paradigms for tomorrow. And some vocabulary. It's day 2 of class. This intensive class is gonna kill me. Ah well.

Just went to see the movie Waitress. It's cute. If you like pie, you'll be hungry later. Apparently, I look like Keri Russell. A Keri Russell that's fatter, shorter, and not so pretty, to be exact.

revising the narrative influence she had over your idea

trees underground
follow a line
in the neighbourhood
the chime of wind

you'd think it was reflection

here's a telephone
a bird
a gate

here come the leaves two at a time
transform into anger & put to good use & black covers everything

beauty in the sky
fell rain upon things
with no name

          stand off
     (seemed real important at the time)

   we bought land

margins and edges,
.5 acres
     (near the water on the water)

rocks existed between other rocks.

this nameless history
or flight of birds.
wipe out a memory, or help
inform it.


I have decided to take Latin at McGill for the next two months. Four days a week. 2.5 hours/day. Might as well get it in while I can, which means in the fall I can launch right into 2nd year Latin and 2nd year Greek. Fun! Found out there's an .opportunity for me to do an MA at Concordia with a special prof I adore. Fantastic!

Getting my grades back, so far things have gone incredibly well--an A in Greek, holy cow. Always rewarding to see hard work pay off. I almost died a couple times this semester.

I am baking organic lemon & poppy seed cupcakes with cream cheese icing topped with coconut. So good I might marry them.

Lonely here with boyfriend away. Am working the core.