Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Can I just say something here?

I'm freaking addicted to this game. Heaven help me. I'm up to level 20 and can't stop playing. I can't let the Blockies beat me. They shall NOT beat me.

I have no idea when I'm going to get my WORK done, but that hardly seems to matter, does it? The Blockies, they wait for me. I must go to them.

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The leg is fine, y'all. I do believe I am now healed.

My bedroom is done. It is gorgeous. Thank goodness I had help getting it done, or I never would have finished it - I do have the best friends! Except now? I think I need drapes. And better furniture. And maybe some new lamps. And thus the downward spiral is embarked upon, in which I begin to CARE about such things, now that I have a nice space to put them in.

Warning - the rest of this post is "thinky," so if you came here for the next chapter in the fart wars at work, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. Sorry. I got in a mood. Whyn't you just go play Blockies and come back tomorrow?

Oh wait, not tomorrow. My Wordsmiths story is being posted tomorrow. It's not funny. So, Friday then. I promise, I'll be much more entertaining on Friday.

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OK - so the New York Philharmonic Orchestra
played a concert yesterday in Pyongyang, North Korea. At first blush you might wonder why this is newsworthy, but take a moment and blush a second time while thinking about it.

Yeah, it took me a while too. I'm not the most savvy person when it comes to global politics and the implications of "Violin Diplomacy."

See, the United States and North Korea have kind of a frosty relationship right no, being as how North Korea may or may not be developing nuclear weapons, which we're not all that happy about. Go figure. The concert was billed as a "relationship builder" for both countries, and while I'm not convinced that playing a concert for 2000 of a nation's elite is going to change anything all that much, I'm all for enhanced relations.

They played classics of the orchestral repertoire, including a selection from Wagner's Lohengrin, Dvorak's " New World Symphony" and Gershwin's "An American in Paris." The concert closed with the Korean folk song "Arirang."

Here's where the thinky bit comes in.....I have been a playing member of several symphonies (and have actually played all but one of these pieces) and that is perhaps why I started to tear up a little bit when I heard the sound bites of the group playing. It was surprising, this reaction. I did not expect to be dripping tears while driving home. Who WOULD, really? But my musical heritage, if you can call it that, got stirred up, and the thrill of being part of a body of people that can work together to create that kind of beauty came back full force.

I have experienced many things while playing my instrument. Joy, frustration, exhilaration, even pain, but the absolute best feeling is that rush of euphoria when you realize that everything is going just right, and you're helping to create an artistic experience, to translate someone's genius into reality, to provide entertainment and escape. It can be spine-tingling, distracting, absorbing, and transporting.

And now, because of that wee headrush, I want to start playing my horn again.

It has sat in my closet for three years now, waiting for me to be ready to pick it up again. While I'll very likely never be as good as I once was, that's of little import right now, as long as I can find the outlet to express that strong desire to not just enjoy music, but make it too.

At the very least, I expect it will stop the sudden-onset weeping when I hear the opening bars of a familiar symphony...and I think we can all agree that this is probably a very good thing indeed.

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Along the same lines, I think I'll start drawing again. I doodle, a LOT, but haven't sat down and DRAWN something for serious in a very long time. I used to really enjoy it, though I can't shade worth a damn. No matter. It's not as though I'm working up a show or anything. It would be just for me. If I like something, I'll keep it. If not, I've got a lovely brick firepit in the back yard that's just calling out for more fuel.

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So, I ask you - Did you used to play an instrument, or sing, or act, or draw, or do something totally creative when you were younger that you would love to do again? What is it, and what's stopping you from doing it now?

I say we capture back that which once played a part in how we defined ourselves. I say we start to express ourselves rather than being mere lumps of flesh that do nothing but consume what other people have created for us.

Whaddaya think? You with me?

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