in which time goes by too slowly
I am currently listening to classical radio while I work, in the vain hope that it will a) distract me from how boring my tasks are right now, and b) wake up my brain a bit by giving it something to analyze. It's not really improving my productivity much, but hey. Baby steps.
Anyway, the point is that I am currently listening (somewhat rapturously) to Portugese harpsichord music while attempting to work. At various points, I have caught myself nodding along, tapping my toes to the beat, or both of the above. I am absolutely that much of a nerd. \o/ /o\
This Saturday I have an all-day recording session with my orchestra, which promises to be both fun and frustrating. The church where we're recording is positively ancient in the way churches often are in London - I think there's been a church on that site since 1100 CE or something ridiculous - but the thing that most sticks in my mind about the church is that for some reason, the big stained glass crucifixion tableau over the alter features a clean-shaven, blonde, short-haired Jesus. A clean-shaven, blonde, short-haired Jesus whose wavy blonde locks look like they have either been artistically styled with a great deal of hairspray, or are caught in a wind machine (which someone apparently dragged up to Golgotha to make sure the whole affair had enough ~drama?). I mean, of course I know the classic depiction of Jesus as an auburn-tressed white dude is equally unrealistic, but really: who thinks 'why don't we make Jesus look even more white?' Who honestly models their stained glass depiction of their Savior - in such an ancient and venerable place of worship, no less - on this picture of Sting?
But I digress. The point is that at 11pm on Saturday night, after the recording session has finished, miznarrator and I will be dragging ourselves onto an overnight coach, and when we emerge, undoubtedly bleary-eyed and grumpy, into the sunlight on Sunday morning we will be in Cornwall, ready to camp by the beach for a week. I cannot even tell you how much we need this vacation, oh my gosh. We are going to bring books, and basically spend the majority of the week laying around on the beach, reading and drinking Cornish cider. At some point, there may even be a cream tea.
The biggest issue, frankly, is the fact that it's only Wednesday.
Dear This Week,
MOVE FASTER, PLS. FFS.
Kisses,
Laura
Anyway, the point is that I am currently listening (somewhat rapturously) to Portugese harpsichord music while attempting to work. At various points, I have caught myself nodding along, tapping my toes to the beat, or both of the above. I am absolutely that much of a nerd. \o/ /o\
This Saturday I have an all-day recording session with my orchestra, which promises to be both fun and frustrating. The church where we're recording is positively ancient in the way churches often are in London - I think there's been a church on that site since 1100 CE or something ridiculous - but the thing that most sticks in my mind about the church is that for some reason, the big stained glass crucifixion tableau over the alter features a clean-shaven, blonde, short-haired Jesus. A clean-shaven, blonde, short-haired Jesus whose wavy blonde locks look like they have either been artistically styled with a great deal of hairspray, or are caught in a wind machine (which someone apparently dragged up to Golgotha to make sure the whole affair had enough ~drama?). I mean, of course I know the classic depiction of Jesus as an auburn-tressed white dude is equally unrealistic, but really: who thinks 'why don't we make Jesus look even more white?' Who honestly models their stained glass depiction of their Savior - in such an ancient and venerable place of worship, no less - on this picture of Sting?
But I digress. The point is that at 11pm on Saturday night, after the recording session has finished, miznarrator and I will be dragging ourselves onto an overnight coach, and when we emerge, undoubtedly bleary-eyed and grumpy, into the sunlight on Sunday morning we will be in Cornwall, ready to camp by the beach for a week. I cannot even tell you how much we need this vacation, oh my gosh. We are going to bring books, and basically spend the majority of the week laying around on the beach, reading and drinking Cornish cider. At some point, there may even be a cream tea.
The biggest issue, frankly, is the fact that it's only Wednesday.
Dear This Week,
MOVE FASTER, PLS. FFS.
Kisses,
Laura