So, I have been realizing lately (or maybe recognizing, since it's a thing I already knew) how very omnivorous our household tastes in music really are, and further, how much we celebrate music around here. I mean, ok, my daughter, Twinkie is in band, so there's that, but what I mean is something more than just supporting our local teenaged musician crowd.
If you were to sit around our house for a day, you might see the Nephew (Mr Perfect Pitch, curse him) stroll by humming a bit of "Stars" from Les Miserables, while in the bathroom, you'd hear Cupcake singing kids songs to the boys. If the littlest boy, Squidge, happens to be in the living room watching "She-Ra" on Netflix, you'll hear him singing the theme song in his best two-year old lisp. In the kitchen, one of my girls, likely Twinkie, will be belting out a range of songs from the Eurythmics to Michael Buble with admirable enthusiasm. Then Boogey or I might wander in, humming one song (Sinatra) or another (Taylor Swift) under our breath. That's what I mean by celebrate. See, we're always enjoying and joining in song. We aren't musicians, far from it, really. Aside from the Nephew, the rest of us are possessed of fine, strong voices, but a sense of pitch that is best described as approximate. My mother always decribed it as "Making a joyful noise".
Something else that happens in our house that I have been told is unusual is our tendency to burst into joint choruses with minimal provocation. This happened the other day when Twinkie's new boyfriend Timmy was over for a first visit. The kids were watching "Fellowship of the Ring", folks were wandering back and forth, and someone made the comment that I am the one in charge around here, the master of the house. Immediately, Cupcake and I leapt out of the kitchen with "Master of the House/Keeper of the zoo" to have Twinkie and Boogey join in with the next two lines of the song (from LesMis)"ready to relieve 'em of a sou or two/Watering the wine, making up the weight/ picking up their knick-knacks when they can't see straight." All, sung at the top of our lungs. Carlos/Timmy's eyes grew to dinner plate size at this, which led Twinkie to giggle and assure him, "Oh, we do this all the time. Watch this." And she came out with the opening lines to "I Have a Dream" from "Tangled"
Twinkie: I'm malicious, mean and scary
Cupcake: my sneer could curdle dairy
Me: and violence wise my hands are not the cleanest
Twinkie: but despite my evil look
Boogie: and my temper
Cupcake/Me: and my hook
All: I've always dreamt of being a concert pianist /Can't you see me on the stage performing Mozart /Tickling the ivories till they scream
At this point, we dissolved into helpless giggles at the terrified look on Timmy's face. It was just a picture. He didn't know what he had walked into, but I'm pretty sure he was praying to escape it as quickly as possible.
The thing is, this happens all the time. One of us will start a line, and the rest of the household joins in. We've gotten Baby Bear (the older of the two boys) into trouble in pre-school more than once because he'll start singing some of the songs we sing, but his pronunciation is...not as clear. But this is a way that we share joy. If we're really feeling relaxed, and a really good swing tune (or Latin) comes on, then the singing transmogrifies into dancing around the living room until we're all giggly and out of breath and dizzy from spinning 'round and round.
Friends and visitors are frequently sucked into the musical moments, and frequent visitors are often relaxed enough now to start songs on their own, knowing that our little gang of backup singers will likely join in.
It's one of the things that I enjoy about home, that we feel safe enough to just enjoy, without having to worry about how we sound.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
late night heartache
Never mind.
I know what silence means.
"This has been fun, but..."
"I never meant..."
"You took me too seriously."
Silence sternly condemns -
"You went too far"
"You said too much"
"I never meant..."
I understand. Message received.
And it's ok.
I will withdraw
Behind my own walls
As before
In Silence.
I withdraw, but
Changed. Aware.
Let my silence
Speak For itself -
"As you wish"
*Note: Inspired by observations of conversations on social media*
I know what silence means.
"This has been fun, but..."
"I never meant..."
"You took me too seriously."
Silence sternly condemns -
"You went too far"
"You said too much"
"I never meant..."
I understand. Message received.
And it's ok.
I will withdraw
Behind my own walls
As before
In Silence.
I withdraw, but
Changed. Aware.
Let my silence
Speak For itself -
"As you wish"
*Note: Inspired by observations of conversations on social media*
Friday, January 25, 2013
Thoughts
I had time to think today, in between research and driving around, and I think I can finally explain some of how I feel...and why that doesn't really change anything.
Say I love someone who is married to a third party. The thing is, the fact that I love that person does not place on them any expectation of action or even of returning feelings. I love that person, nothing more or less. The third party holds my loved one's oath, and it falls to me to simply accept that reality freely and without question. If I cannot do this, simply accept what is, then what I feel is not love but covetousness, and it is unworthy.
I thought about how I feel today, and that was the conclusion at which I arrived. There is an oath in place. I respect and honor that oath, though it is not mine, because it belongs to one whom I love. I willingly defer to that oath because it is good and right to do so. And at the same time, I love, without a doubt. It may be that the love burns itself up in its own fire, but it will do so cleanly, as gold, rather than as a cheap gilt disguise for baser emotions. (I'm not sure that the last metaphor works right there, but it will do for now).
Say I love someone who is married to a third party. The thing is, the fact that I love that person does not place on them any expectation of action or even of returning feelings. I love that person, nothing more or less. The third party holds my loved one's oath, and it falls to me to simply accept that reality freely and without question. If I cannot do this, simply accept what is, then what I feel is not love but covetousness, and it is unworthy.
I thought about how I feel today, and that was the conclusion at which I arrived. There is an oath in place. I respect and honor that oath, though it is not mine, because it belongs to one whom I love. I willingly defer to that oath because it is good and right to do so. And at the same time, I love, without a doubt. It may be that the love burns itself up in its own fire, but it will do so cleanly, as gold, rather than as a cheap gilt disguise for baser emotions. (I'm not sure that the last metaphor works right there, but it will do for now).
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Vincent, part the fifth
Being selections and thoughts about his letters from 1882
He spent January and February in a fever of painting and drawing, always seeking to improve, to reach some internal standard. His letters to Theo mention this and his anxiety over money. He doesn't know how he is going to live from month to month.
His opinions on money haen't changed, however much he happens to need it to survive. The problem is, Theo, my brother, not to let yourself be bound, no matter by what, especially not by a golden chain. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 March 1882
Odd, but I did not realize from his earlier letters that he had spent some time homeless, living under bridges in London and Belgium. This makes sense though, considering the worry from family members. He finally says it out loud in a letter from April of 1882, years later. His letters to Theo mention this and his anxiety over money. He doesn't know how he is going to live from month to month and this is a major source of stress for him. Is it one of the stressors that sends him over the edge for the first time?
He makes me want to play with graphite and pen.
IN May of 1882, Vincent confesses to Theo that he has taken up with a woman he met in the streets. She had been betrayed by a man and was pregnant and ill when she and Vincent met. He sees in her a perfect assistant, and enjoys working with her. She seems to understand his rages (as he puts it). He says, "She and I are two unhappy people who keep each other company and share a burden, and that is precisely why unhappiness is making way for happiness, and the unbearable is becoming bearable." - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 1-2 June 1882
By June, Vincent's carefully constructed world seems to be unraveling. He isn't sleeping well (at all), and the money troubles are more pronounced. I did not realize that someone could be placed under guardianship for not being able to manage money. I wonder if Vincent would have had the same challenges had he lived in a different time.
Do you know that drawing with words is also an art, which sometimes betrays a slumbering hidden force, like small blue or grey puffs of smoke indicate a fire on the hearth? - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 6 July 1882
Feeling and love for nature sooner or later find a response from people who are interested in art. It is the painter's duty to be entirely absorbed by nature and to use all his intelligence to express sentiment in his work, so that it becomes intelligible to other people. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 1 August 1882
They will never be able to understand what painting is. They cannot understand that the figure of a labourer—some furrows in a ploughed field - a bit of sand, sea and sky—are serious subjects, so difficult, but at the same time so beautiful, that it is indeed worth while to devote one's life to expressing the poetry hidden in them. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 19 August 1882
So what is needed is courage and self-sacrifice and risking something, not for gain, but because it is useful and good; one must retain one's trust in one's fellow creatures and fellow countrymen in general. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 1 December 1882
I want something more concise, more simple, more serious; I want more soul and more love and more heart. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 December 1882
One must go on working silently, leaving the result to the future. If one prospect is closed, perhaps another will open itself - there must be some prospect, and a future too, even if we do not know its geography. Conscience is a man's compass, and though the needle sometimes deviates, though one often perceives irregularities when directing one's course by it, one must still try to follow its direction. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 12-18 December 1882
So ends 1882.
He spent January and February in a fever of painting and drawing, always seeking to improve, to reach some internal standard. His letters to Theo mention this and his anxiety over money. He doesn't know how he is going to live from month to month.
His opinions on money haen't changed, however much he happens to need it to survive. The problem is, Theo, my brother, not to let yourself be bound, no matter by what, especially not by a golden chain. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 March 1882
Odd, but I did not realize from his earlier letters that he had spent some time homeless, living under bridges in London and Belgium. This makes sense though, considering the worry from family members. He finally says it out loud in a letter from April of 1882, years later. His letters to Theo mention this and his anxiety over money. He doesn't know how he is going to live from month to month and this is a major source of stress for him. Is it one of the stressors that sends him over the edge for the first time?
He makes me want to play with graphite and pen.
IN May of 1882, Vincent confesses to Theo that he has taken up with a woman he met in the streets. She had been betrayed by a man and was pregnant and ill when she and Vincent met. He sees in her a perfect assistant, and enjoys working with her. She seems to understand his rages (as he puts it). He says, "She and I are two unhappy people who keep each other company and share a burden, and that is precisely why unhappiness is making way for happiness, and the unbearable is becoming bearable." - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 1-2 June 1882
By June, Vincent's carefully constructed world seems to be unraveling. He isn't sleeping well (at all), and the money troubles are more pronounced. I did not realize that someone could be placed under guardianship for not being able to manage money. I wonder if Vincent would have had the same challenges had he lived in a different time.
Do you know that drawing with words is also an art, which sometimes betrays a slumbering hidden force, like small blue or grey puffs of smoke indicate a fire on the hearth? - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 6 July 1882
Feeling and love for nature sooner or later find a response from people who are interested in art. It is the painter's duty to be entirely absorbed by nature and to use all his intelligence to express sentiment in his work, so that it becomes intelligible to other people. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 1 August 1882
They will never be able to understand what painting is. They cannot understand that the figure of a labourer—some furrows in a ploughed field - a bit of sand, sea and sky—are serious subjects, so difficult, but at the same time so beautiful, that it is indeed worth while to devote one's life to expressing the poetry hidden in them. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 19 August 1882
So what is needed is courage and self-sacrifice and risking something, not for gain, but because it is useful and good; one must retain one's trust in one's fellow creatures and fellow countrymen in general. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, 1 December 1882
I want something more concise, more simple, more serious; I want more soul and more love and more heart. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 11 December 1882
One must go on working silently, leaving the result to the future. If one prospect is closed, perhaps another will open itself - there must be some prospect, and a future too, even if we do not know its geography. Conscience is a man's compass, and though the needle sometimes deviates, though one often perceives irregularities when directing one's course by it, one must still try to follow its direction. - Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh, The Hague, c. 12-18 December 1882
So ends 1882.
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