New Things

So the picture below is our newest addition to the family. It's actually a loner from a musician friend. Yes, B and I are taking violin lessons.

Ever since B started playing mandolin, I've had a quiet thought to play the fiddle. At B's urging we took the plunge. We started the same week so we are learning the same things which makes it extra fun and encouraging.

My mantra these last 6 months have been about taking risks and trying new things and this is one of them. Today I played my first scale. I'm hoping one day I'll be able to accompany Brad on some of our favorite songs.

Occasionally, the sound that comes from this thing makes my eyes tear up and I'm only bowing one single string without doing anything else! No fingerings, just bowing. The purity of sound is really something.

I have lesson #4 on Friday and can't wait.

The Sound of Music

Of late I've found myself listening to George Winston's December in the early pre-dawn hours.  Waking about 3am racing thoughts of incomplete projects and open issues swirl around my brain.  Listening to these piano compositions slow my heart rate and calm my thoughts.  Usually I fall back to sleep during the opening track entitled, "Thanksgiving."

I first heard the album in 1982 while studying in the Music Lounge during my freshman year of college.  Several years later we bought cassette tape and eventually the CD.  Fast forward to 2006 and the music found its way onto my first iPod, but remained unplayed for many years.

I'm not sure what prompted me to call up the album recently.  Of late I've discovered that music infused with piano leaves tracks of something good in me.  My husband and I recently heard Jimmy Webb play his original compositions on a huge grand piano in a 100 seat venue.  At times tears welled in my eyes from an unknown place.

As I've been musing about this, I remembered that most afternoons while growing up my mom played our piano for an hour or so before starting dinner.  I expect this was something she did even before she and Dad married.  I can't help but wonder if since my conception piano instrumentals have been part of me.  Who knows and in some ways it doesn't matter.  I just know that this sound of music is delicate and tender in my soul.

Bruce Springsteen - Part 2

My next encounter with Bruce was my re-education by my music-fanatic-soon-to-be-husband about the real Bruce Springsteen. As I mentioned in my previous post, I confused Rick Springfield with Bruce Springsteen. In the early 80s I was a big fan of Rick Springfield. What teenage girl wouldn't have been?? Good-looking soap-opera-doctor turned singer. A couple of girl friends and I went to Red Rocks to see him in concert. Yipee!!

Bruce Springsteen's Tunnel of Love album was released the year we were engaged. We listened to the album over and over again, so it was very much a part of the early years of our marriage. We especially liked the title track, Tunnel of Love. It aptly expressed the exciting and yet scary parts of marriage.

...Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love...

...Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us
You me and all that stuff we're so scared of
Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love

...it ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love

As luck would have it, Bruce came through our city on his Tunnel of Love Tour and a friend got us front row tickets in the side section to the concert!! (Her sister worked for Select-a-Seat at the time.) Unfortunately, my soon-to-be husband was recovering from mono. I hinted that maybe we shouldn't go to the concert and he looked at me like I'd gone mad. I soon discovered why.

The concert was absolutely amazing. Bruce played for at least 4 hours. Every minute was fabulous. He sang. He played. He rocked. He danced. He jumped. The eStreet Band...Clarence and Patti. Wow!

At one point he hopped onto a speakers on our side of the stage. He looked down at our section while singing his heart out. My husband (to be) looked at me and I looked at him. At the same time we said, "He LOOKED at ME!". It was an amazing moment. We had a great time at the concert and we were completely spent by the end. Supposedly Bruce came out for yet another encore. Who knows. I'm not sure we could have lasted. I was completely exhausted and I didn't even have mono.

Bruce Springsteen - Part 1

This morning I read a new blog called penni for your thoughts. In one of her recent entries she mentioned seeing Bruce Springsteen in concert as a non-fan and coming away as a fan (see her post comments).

I got to thinking about my own encounters with Bruce and his music. My husband and his music loving friends are mortified when I share my early confusion over Bruce Springsteen and Rick Springfield (but that's another story).

I first heard of Bruce back in the 80s while reading a memoir of sorts in a local newspaper at a downtown sandwich shop. The writer told of an experience listening to a Springsteen song while driving his car through town and the open country-side. (I don't remember the song, but I'm guessing it was Thunder Road.)

He described the song, the lyrics, the sound of Bruce's voice and the music. All this while describing his drive through town and the countryside. Perfectly timed music with starts, stops, turns, acceleration, letting loose. I'd never heard of people connecting to music this way.

It was magical and I got caught up in his experience. This was 25 years ago...mind you...I'd never heard the song nor knew of this Bruce, but after reading this piece...Wow. Little did I know what was awaiting me...

A Language with No Words

I love fall. It means the nights are cool enough where we can sit on our porch and enjoy our chiminea. The pinion pine smell....hmmm....Wonderful. The other day my neighbor said, "I can tell this weather agrees with you". This was about the 10th time he's seen us enjoy a fire.

Again tonight we spent the early evening on our porch in front of the chiminea. After my husband went inside I stayed outside and put another small log on the fire. The sun had gone down by this time, so only the light from the house, street lights, and occasional car light lit the evening. A song by Nickel Creek came on the iPod that stirred my soul, speaking to a deep place in a language with no words.