asteroid B612

Ever since my hot pink alarm clock that I've had since I was 7 broke at the beginning of the summer, Chris has been using his little alarm clock that doesn't have bright red numbers, so is very hard to see, and lies flat, so that you have to pick it up to look at it anyway. When I'm lying in bed in the morning wondering what time it is, that is the last thing I want to do. I have begun to be able to tell time by the vertical beads of light coming through the blinds and landing between two picture frames. Exactly halfway between the two frames, it is 7.30, a quarter of the way more, it is 8.00. A nice time to get up when all I do today is sit at home and study. I also like that time, because the morning sun hasn't hit the full side of the house yet, and as it shines through the tree the leaves dance on the closed blinds. It also appears that some pigeons have taken residence around the porch. I think on the roof directly above the porch. At any rate, now the pigeons are flying through the porch on a regular basis, regardless if I'm on it or not, and perch on various places on and closely around the porch. Now I'm no fan of pigeons, as anyone who has traveled with me can attest. I think they're dirty, parasitical birds. But I have to admit, their soft cooing provides a nice contrast to the frenetic squawking of the parrots that live in the palm tree in front of the house.

No wonder I feel suffocated! The air here is as thick as a moonless night. I went for my run in the park this morning, and I could hardly breathe. Sidling into August, I've noticed that it has gradually gotten thicker and thicker. I'm glad I'm finding ways to be out of NOLA for a good part of August.

This morning on the way back from the park, I had the radio on, and they had just started their morning classical music program. There was an orchestrated version of Debussy's Children's Corner Suite. Now I'm no expert on orchestral transcriptions of piano pieces, but this one was awful! It seems to me that a desirable orchestration of what was originally for piano should maintain the clarity of the piano. There are some techniques that an orchestra possesses that a piano clearly does not, like the ability to extend a note further or quick repetition of notes. But these techniques can be utilized without sacrificing the lucidity of a melodic or accompanying line, which is so important in French music, esp. In this orchestration of the Children's Corner Suite, the orchestra was not handled well at all. It was muddy, obscuring the piece to the point of its being indiscernable in parts, and I know the Children's Corner very well. Every once in a while a melody line would venture forth, but the orchestra was handled so poorly, that it struggled to be heard. Groan. I hate our classical radio station. The announcers are such fruitcakes, and it didn't take too much to realize the sheer inadequacy of this recording. At least the pain was eased some with the scintillating and pristine "Classical" Symphony by Prokofiev shortly thereafter, a fave of mine, and one I really wish I had a recording of...that and his 3rd Piano Concerto. Such staples, and every time they come on the radio, I think, 'why don't I have a recording of this!?'

I can't seem to get my brain in gear. I have so much work to do, but my mind keeps wandering. I'm trying to get done with one paper so I can get to the one that I've been wanting to get to for months (the Josquin one). So this paper I want to get done with quick has something to do with Wagner, Hegel, structuralism, absolute music, program music, and gesamtkunstwerk. But that's about as specific as I can come up with at this point. Far from getting to a specific thesis. I just keep trying to find the one article or passage from a book that will spark my creative juices. You'd think reading Dahlhaus would do the trick...if I could focus for long enough. Maybe I'll play the gamba for a little while. It's focus of a different sort, so perhaps that will get me going. I feel rather suffocated. Not quite sure if I'm ready for this grownup way of being a scholar. Sometimes I think that if I could just sit down and have a chat with a prof it will all come together ok. But the few that are around are in Baton Rouge and probably busy anyway. This is really more like real life anyway. This is the lonely world of the scholar. Getting up with the day stretched in front of me, knowing that filling it is entirely up to me and a looming deadline. If I have an idea, I have to pursue it. I have to make the connections. I have to write. This is nothing new, in some respects. It's what we did in college to some degree. It's just part of good writing. But then my papers were, at least for me, part of some kind of ongoing conversation that was just the Cov world. And whatever I wrote stayed within the Cov world, and I didn't have to worry. Now, as I get into the grown up world, I have to come up with an idea and test it for myself, the occasional running by a prof being a luxury. And I have to think, can I publish? can I present at a conf? can I begin to get my little self into the professional world? But all this is just part of the baggage, and doesn't bother too much...enough that I stress a little bit when choosing paper topics, but not enough to really bother me, because I still end up writing papers that are interesting to me, are original, but probably not presentable in any kind of public arena. What I feel today, at the final stretch of a long summer, is suffocated. I feel overwhelmed with the vast amount of work that lies before me undone and the lack of mental focus to just do it. It is all very interesting, and I enjoy it a lot. But the walls of our little apartment are starting to press closer in. I'm starting to have difficulty communicating verbally. New Orleans cultural life is lost to me. I'm convinced that a balanced life is the panacea, but at this point, I don't know what balance is anymore. I feel that I should be balanced now with the couple days I took off at the end of last week, but apparently not. Should I rest a little more? How can I with all that remains undone? I want to read. I've tried numerous times today to delve into Dahlhaus or the random article. I'm rolling ideas around in my head wishing them to coagulate. What is the moment of inspiration that will do it? Let me finish my cuppa. Then perhaps a fresh start...

Today Betsy and I popped in at an estate sale on Nashville Ave. This is the third day it's run, so there wasn't much there, but then, I don't think there was much there to begin with. Mostly junk that reminded us of stuff from our early, early childhoods or of being at our Grandma's house...like the little toy barn that said "moo!" when you opened the door. I picked up a big tin tub thing and a little wooden window box for the garden. I also came upon a container of anti-Communist literature. Too good to pass up. I came away with a couple relics. Revolutionary Actions...U.S.A...In retrospect: What to do now, which also contains a handy dictionary of double-talk Socialist/Communese English. Also promisingly entertaining is You Can Trust the Communists (to be Communists), with a description on the front that reads: "Find out why 'you can trust the Communists to be Communists' in this fascinating, forceful history that gives you the inside facts on how Communism affects you...and tells you what to do about it." I love the brief bio of the author on the back, quite obviously zealous in character: "Dr. Fred Schwarz sacrificed a successful medical practice in Sydney, Australia, to set the example he believes others should follow by devoting himself full time to opposition to Communism. He travels the world over, alerting citizens of the free countries to the dangers of underestimating the Communist threat. He is President of the Christian Anti-Communism Crusade." An honor, I'm sure, whose importance has somewhat faded almost fifty years later. I'm pleasantly diverted by these finds.

After German was over, I was exhausted. I took the rest of the week off to rest and relax. A little vacation at home, you might observe. It was lovely. I sat and read and read for pleasure, it is. Fiction. A rare treat. I finished the third Lymond book. It was so tense I kept having to shout "Auuggghh!!" just to relieve the tension, because the author didn't. It didn't even resolve at the end running directly into the fourth book, which I don't have. In order to extract myself from Lymond world and to relieve the tension, I picked up Remains of the Day, a short book that I had been wanting to read since I saw the movie several years ago. It's such an enjoyable book...about a butler of a great house in England reflecting on past days of glory at the house. It is rather poignant in parts. I hardly remembered anything from the movie, so when I finished the book, I went out and rented the movie, which, I suppose, one sure never do, because one will always be disappointed. And I was. The movie completely missed the whole point of the book, trying to bring out an implicit, repressed romance between the butler and housekeeper. There were some moments in the book where you thought the two might have some affection beyond their professional relationship, but the point of the book was the butler coming to terms with the remains of his day and of learning the pulse of human warmth behind the dignity he so prized in a truly great butler. The movie completely missed this point. (It's funny that I should be talking about the remains of the day first thing in the morning.)

I'm still very tired, but I really need to start work again. I'm sure I'll get inspiration and adrenalin once I get going. Perhaps I'll go for a run first....

German is over, over, over, over, over! I'm done. Passed. DONE. YAY!!!!
And I'm so tired of words, that that's all I'm going to say.