This will be a dedication piece combined with confessional. Get ready.
In my last post, I promised to write more about my darling baby bro. Well here it is. This is dedicated to him.
Last night I called him after my film meeting. He told me he was headed to the Utah Symphony. I figured he was going with some friends who are taking a music class with him, but no... It turns out he was going alone, because he thought it was awesome. He was right. I have a secret love/admiration/ appreciation/ jealousy of people who are brazen enough to adamantly do things by themselves. I do my own thing a lot, but it seems like there's always some safety in numbers behind a lot of my activities, and I always seems to be able to find someone interested in whatever I'm doing. Maybe I'm too mainstream, boring, or not committed enough to my own self. These feelings about perfectly content lone wolves leads me to a deep seated desire to accompany them on EVERYTHING they do.
So I went and bought a ticket, and after a little finagling, I got a seat right next to him.
It was fantastic to say the least. The program was a beautiful rendition of two early (and underperformed in the long run) Beethoven pieces and an hour long Rachmaninoff. I was beside myself when the Rachmaninoff began, and for the subsequent hour of delight.
Confessional time. I secretly form inappropriate bonds and relationships with the unwitting performers on occasions such as this. I spent a lot of time imagining what the bald first chair violinist was like as a kid, and why the rotund tympani decided to get into percussion as a professional choice. I had a whole thing going with the Asian violist having secret rendezvous with the dashing bass clarinetist who was a guest at this performance. I know that it's inappropriate to imagine hanging out with the entire orchestra on a casual level, but I really can't help but wonder if the shockingly white haired granny makes delicious soup and knits.
So, thank you, baby bro. It was an excellent evening by any measure.
Afterward, I went over to my friend Joey's place and made preliminary plans and decisions for an upcoming project. Be ready to have your minds blown outta your heads (By which I mean, it's gonna [I can barely believe that 'gonna' is a real word...] be really good).
In my last post, I promised to write more about my darling baby bro. Well here it is. This is dedicated to him.
Last night I called him after my film meeting. He told me he was headed to the Utah Symphony. I figured he was going with some friends who are taking a music class with him, but no... It turns out he was going alone, because he thought it was awesome. He was right. I have a secret love/admiration/ appreciation/ jealousy of people who are brazen enough to adamantly do things by themselves. I do my own thing a lot, but it seems like there's always some safety in numbers behind a lot of my activities, and I always seems to be able to find someone interested in whatever I'm doing. Maybe I'm too mainstream, boring, or not committed enough to my own self. These feelings about perfectly content lone wolves leads me to a deep seated desire to accompany them on EVERYTHING they do.
So I went and bought a ticket, and after a little finagling, I got a seat right next to him.
It was fantastic to say the least. The program was a beautiful rendition of two early (and underperformed in the long run) Beethoven pieces and an hour long Rachmaninoff. I was beside myself when the Rachmaninoff began, and for the subsequent hour of delight.
Confessional time. I secretly form inappropriate bonds and relationships with the unwitting performers on occasions such as this. I spent a lot of time imagining what the bald first chair violinist was like as a kid, and why the rotund tympani decided to get into percussion as a professional choice. I had a whole thing going with the Asian violist having secret rendezvous with the dashing bass clarinetist who was a guest at this performance. I know that it's inappropriate to imagine hanging out with the entire orchestra on a casual level, but I really can't help but wonder if the shockingly white haired granny makes delicious soup and knits.
So, thank you, baby bro. It was an excellent evening by any measure.
Afterward, I went over to my friend Joey's place and made preliminary plans and decisions for an upcoming project. Be ready to have your minds blown outta your heads (By which I mean, it's gonna [I can barely believe that 'gonna' is a real word...] be really good).
1 comment:
alicia. i totally bond with performers on stage while I am just an audience member. i thought i was the only one who did that. man, we are cool.
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