Rediscovery

I did something that would probably horrify every professional musician on the face of the earth. I took a 2.5 month break from practicing. I can hear the whispered muttering now: She did what? She's going to get so much worse. How could she give up so easily?

But the fact of the matter is ultimately this: I needed it.

I needed it after eleven years of working to get into orchestras, working to sit in a better seat, working to get into college, working to sound ok at the next recital, working to pass a jury, working to fulfill the required practice hours, working for the sake of working to prove that I could. Somewhere in the midst of all the work, music - with the sole exception of playing with an orchestra - ceased to be music. It became a requirement. Not only that, but it became something I could use to show myself that I had something worthwhile to offer society.

So I took 2.5 months off. Did I lose some ground? Yes. Does my embouchure get tired after ten minutes? Yes. Do I find this pathetic? Ha...you'd better believe it. But I think the benefits outweigh the consequences here, dire as they are. Suddenly, music has more meaning. All throughout my lengthy hiatus I felt like something was missing, and practicing today - however briefly - made me realize what it was. One cannot abandon a method of offering praise to one's Creator without recognizing a sense of loss.

But now, with renewed clarity and purpose, mere practicing can be a form of worship that it never was before. What could be more beneficial than that?

Baked Goods

One night, far too late for my own good, I decided to bake cookies.  Because who doesn't like cookies?  

They turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself.  By the end of the next day, they were gone.  

(Fear not; there were at least 20 people eating them.  I only had four.)

On New Things and Sea Monsters

Ok...ok...so...I forgot about blogging for awhile.  But I promise I had legitimate reasons!  Although that doesn't mean much coming from me.  Judge for yourselves:

A) I moved.

B) I started a new job.

C) I gained a boyfriend (Google-suggested synonyms include "beau," "heartthrob," and "honeybunch." Awkward.)

All of the above are marvelous.  Fantastic.  Splendid.  Terrific.  You name it.  But that's not why I'm writing tonight.  While I'm sure they will be expounded upon later, tonight I want to talk about something important.  Historic, if you will.  Drumroll please....


THE KRAKEN.


Yeah.  I bet you didn't see that coming.  Ha.

On the way back from tonight's spontaneous journey from work to Pinkberry (rush hour + Friday night = poor planning; don't try this at home, folks...), I took a break from the classical station and turned on NPR.  I learned that there are fossils of nine ichthyosaurs, each about 45 feet long, lying in a Nevada valley, bones arranged in a peculiar order, with no particular explanation.

[source]

The paleontologist on the radio came up with a hypothesis, based on the bones' positions, that these fish-like dinosaurs were killed by what could have presumably been the Kraken, evidently an ancient ancestor of the modern-day octopus.  (Side note: in Britain, it's pronounced KRAAAY-ken instead of KRAAAH-ken.  Who knew?)  If you're really curious, you can read all about it or listen to the entire broadcast here.

I, of course, being the nerd that I am, sat in my car for an extra five minutes after I got home to hear the end of it, and then ran inside the new house to research it for the next half hour.  Let's be serious.  What else would I do with my Friday night?