Mendelssohn’s piano concertos fell through my mail slot before I’d even had one sip of my sludgy tea this morning. In any case, it was before eight-thirty and my name was on the envelope in block letters. I’d been shuffling down the stairs and the package confused me. I’d completely forgotten that I’d even asked for it. And to think I’d never been a fanatic fan of Mendelssohn’s music--the idealism! The boyfriend that dared to love his scores more than the plinking brood of Chopin and the lonely Bach! Mendelssohn always a bit of an anathema for me--quite possibly because of the moments I associated with him, from the next room: “CAN YOU TURN THAT DOWN, T??? I’M TRYING TO WRITE!!” So loud, each time so loud.
& well, the music ceased to be booming and grinding to me today: andante, presto! Oh, change-o! This concerto was different and what I needed: three cups of tea, two cups of coffee and the entire first section of the paper read in Chinatown café before work. What warrants a story to be placed in the In Brief section? It breaks my heart--international death, detainment in side-bar snippets. I haven’t truly read the paper in months, no longer a subscriber, and afterward, the Whole Day a bit sad and hanging, berries on the bottom, Mendelssohn gone from my thoughts. A few words on death and autobiography at work today. And trips to meet it, or both. Tired from what I’d been reading and what I’d been writing, I did the Rodin and got some white ink on my elbow today. Placed some clear tape on my shirt to protect what I was working with. It’s good to be listening to music before bed, just as I had listened to it after firstly placing the feet down. Displacing grammar, pardon; I have this complex when it comes to articles, definite and indefinite.
I never claimed to have any practical skills.
Posted by caroline at April 14, 2005 2:52 AM