Back in time.
Three years ago, this time of year found me in the middle of a very unpleasant situation in my apartment in Cambridge. It was the tail end of my tenure there, and bedbugs had kept me from sleeping properly for the previous two months. The end of the month brought a wonderful bit of resolution to that particular struggle, but it was still a struggle.
Two years ago, this time of year found me having just returned from the Orchestra of Crafty Guitarists II course in Seattle, WA. The week following that, the Circle spent a weekend with Tony G. learning a piece of music that, two years on, still amazes me in how deep and full it is. It is almost more amazing that a piece of music that is less than two minutes long when played at a brisk "moving" tempo can have such a breadth of information in it, even though I have played the same part for two years. When music is good, it is good.
One year ago (to the day, I'm pretty sure) found me in a hospital in "fully helpless" mode, as I sat and waited for any doctor to bring more pain medication--but not for me. Down the hall, a man screamed every obscenity he could think of at the doctors and nurses that, very begrudgingly, were trying to help him; meanwhile, the nurses on staff rolled their eyes and muttered their own sub-breath curses at him. The whole time found me fidgeting a lot, as I waited longer and longer to be able to get us home. I wish we'd been able to keep the wheelchair.
Next year may very well find a slight return of 2009 coming about.
Two years ago, this time of year found me having just returned from the Orchestra of Crafty Guitarists II course in Seattle, WA. The week following that, the Circle spent a weekend with Tony G. learning a piece of music that, two years on, still amazes me in how deep and full it is. It is almost more amazing that a piece of music that is less than two minutes long when played at a brisk "moving" tempo can have such a breadth of information in it, even though I have played the same part for two years. When music is good, it is good.
One year ago (to the day, I'm pretty sure) found me in a hospital in "fully helpless" mode, as I sat and waited for any doctor to bring more pain medication--but not for me. Down the hall, a man screamed every obscenity he could think of at the doctors and nurses that, very begrudgingly, were trying to help him; meanwhile, the nurses on staff rolled their eyes and muttered their own sub-breath curses at him. The whole time found me fidgeting a lot, as I waited longer and longer to be able to get us home. I wish we'd been able to keep the wheelchair.
Next year may very well find a slight return of 2009 coming about.