one of these mornings

[bird_in_space]

Last night we saw a pianist named Matthew Shipp, who is famous for playing so furiously that his fingers bleed all over the keys. Before the show a black cat was making its way through and around the audience, charming everybody. When Shipp came on he sat down and played for an hour nonstop. Sometimes his hands would fly up to the level of his face before slamming down onto the keys. It was impossible to tell how much of what he played was improvised. At one point late in the set you could make out snatches of "Summertime." We did not see if there was any blood.

Today was my last voice lesson before the college auditions start. I sing for Oberlin this Saturday. It is all frightening, but I feel prepared.