The Sandcastle

Broken Bottleneck

Howdy, All.

I took the easy way out and left Monet's Sweatshirt lying in an inelegant lump for picking up again in calmer times; working on the Blackberry Ridge socks now.  I've managed to screw up the colors twice and have thus ripped back twice, but all is copacetic now.  These are fun even if my head is elsewhere.

Sorry no pics today; too much going on.  Probably this weekend!

*waves*

~ Sand

April is the Cruelest Month

Hi All.  *waves*

Fast post today - the ends are woven in on the Flaky Gauntlets of Doom, and I have half a sleeve done on Monet's Sweatshirt.  Changing yarns every row is way too much of a P.I.T.A. and it's become this guilt-inducing lump over in the corner.  I'll either get it finished now or not; I may start on the cool sock kit I ordered from Blackberry Ridge. 

Total stall-out, basically.  *sigh*  The end of the semester - 'twas ever thus.

*waves again*

~ Sand

Go Leo!

Ok, ok, ok.  I loved West Wing tonight - score one for Josh and the President outfoxing that foxiest of old foxes, Leo.  I confess, though, that I'm in mourning for CJ already.  And I also have to say that the getting the Classical Greek literature references almost right, but getting them wrong, is classic Sorkin.  Ok, so, he's not listed as a writer any more, but one has one's suspicions nonetheless.

Never try to get anything like that past a textual scholar.  Dudes, we obsess about commas and get on planes to check ink colors on original manuscripts - ink colors used in punctuation.  We're freaky that way.  We also tend to like Bach and anything else that's contrapuntal.

Insert memory:  Listing Robert's favorite one-hit wonders from the '80s without foreknowledge of them.  Counterpoint.  Love it.

No knitting pictures tonight - not enough progress on Monet's Sweatshirt to warrant them, although I will confess I am now heartily sick of changing yarns every row.  *grinding teeth*  I.  Will.  Finish.  (Did another couple of inches on the sleeve tonight whilst Winging.)

I'm thinking of starting a contest - (I just misstyped that "context" - which would also be a fun thing to start).  Obscure literary reference = free yarn.  I have too much yarn.  I'll have to ponder that.

Back to bonding with the iPod's "shuffle songs" feature.  Current selection:  "Tainted Love."  Previous selection:  Beethoven's Symphony #7 (second movement).  Heh.  I am a freak. 

~ Sand

P.S.  Yep.  Both are contrapuntal.  Heh.

Very nice, Herr Handel, but can you dance to it?

Today's post is in honor of the Liberal Arts, the muses, and other things that make life worth living.

Art:  Monet's Sweatshirt - nope, still not done (and still not King!) - but here's the twilight photo I promised.

Music:  Lo these ages past, in pursuit of what would become my first (Very Useful) Humanities degree, I went through the Usual Suspects of music education in this country.  John Thompson's piano series for technique.  The "Everybody's Favorite" series for recital pieces (starting with Everybody's Favorite Piano Pieces for Children, grades I-IV, then, on or about the end of elementary school, graduating to the book my Mom played from).  Sometimes I'd try whatever Mom was playing (most famously, Bach's Two-Part Invention #14 in B-flat, the low B-flat of which I happily bonked away at at the age of you wouldn't believe me if I told you, but I was eye-level with the keyboard, standing up in my footie pajamas), sometimes I'd try the stuff that my teachers' more advanced students were playing.  Somewhere in here I graduated to the grown-up stuff - Bach's Two-Part Inventions (13, 14 - on my own this time, 4 and 8), Preludes and (later) Fugues.  I wanted to play baroque and Beethoven (by this time I'm about...13?  14?); my teacher wanted me to play Mozart sonatas.  Tinkly irritating stuff, and all in major, thought I, from my tremendously sophisticated 13 or 14 year old perspective.  Fine.  Mozart.  Now can I play Beethoven?  Moonlight.  Check - but only the first movement, dear; the third is sooo fast.  Pathetique.  Check.  Appassionata?  Much too difficult for you, dear... (*grumble*) Along the way I hit the usual greatest hits and whatever my teachers were hot on at the time.  Lots of Gershwin my junior year, I remember.  (And I said screw it and learned the 3rd movement of the Moonlight on my own.)

But mostly I wanted to play Bach and Beethoven.  They made me feel something - logic, or passion; at the best of times, both.  To get away from the Mozart I switched to harpsichord in my freshman year of high school (and again in college) - it lost me Beethoven, but, up to my happy high in Bach, it was worth the trade.

Somewhere in there I became an inveterate "performance practice" snob - Bach shouldn't be played on a piano, all music should be played on original instruments, what the HELL are you thinking, college choir director, doing Palestrina with a 100+ member chorus and full orchestra?  (I took that one to the mat, much to the amusement, probably, of the entire Dartmouth music faculty...sigh...they were so patient with me.)

But the real matter at hand - yes, there is one - is that somewhere in there I fell in love with Brahms' 4th Symphony, which got me into a *load* of trouble.  (This is the best you could do for getting into trouble in college, Sand?  Mais oui...)  See...I was dancing to it.  '80s dancing.  In the hallway in the Music Department.

You can't dance to Brahms, I was told (by the other students...by a couple faculty members - not all - some were extremely cool, and I think most of them thought I had a rather endearingly loose screw - but some of them reacted as though I'd spat on a holy relic and kicked a puppy, simultaneously).  "You're not a serious Music Person if you dance to Brahms."  "You're not serious about anything if you dance to Brahms."  "You Can't.  Dance.  To.  Brahms."

Well, yeah, actually, you can. 

This was by now the Very Late '80s, and the best the music scene was giving me that year was Dead or Alive's "You Spin Me Right 'Round" - which was fun, in a brainless, whimper of a swansong for what had been a fun decade way, but where were the gut-grabbing chords, the goosebump harmonies, and the breath-stealing passages that characterize music that compels you - well, ok, me - to dance?

So.  My entire music career boils down to "Very nice, Herr Handel, but can you dance to it?"  Damn straight you can!  Took the rest of the world long enough to catch up, but - being somewhat ahead of my time (and y'all thought I was just an early-witherer! ;) - the younger generation of classical musicians apparently agrees with me.  This week's 4Tunes - Classical Music you're *supposed* to dance to.  (Listen with caution while driving.  The sirens are *not* part of the song.)

1. Vanessa Mae - Storm (techno Vivaldi by an incredibly exciting violinist, who's probably closer to the spirit of the original performance than a lot of the pale-faced technically perfect wankers who grace concert halls)
2. Aria3 - Furioso (techno Handel)
3. Vanessa Mae - Contradanza (techno "folk")
4. Blues Traveler - Hook (which is really Pachelbel's Canon in D)

So yep.  Still an inveterate music snob, but now for the spirit of it rather than the accurate mechanical niceties that constitute performance practice.  (If you play Haydn on a pianoforte I will probably run screaming from all the plunking; but yes, Glenn Gould still gives me hives - he *will* honk through his nose while playing, and I want to hear Bach, not Glenn Gould's sinuses, thanks).  That said, do play Bach on a piano if it makes you happy...but consider adding a backbeat?  :)

I believe I'll leave the rest of the Liberal Arts for another day. 

Yours in unrepentant secular humanism,

~ Sand

Superlative Saturday

Salutations, Sundry! 

When you wake up to discover this happening in your yard as a surprise for you, what a spectacular mood that brings!  Many thanks to Becca and her fabulous helpers for welcoming Spring to La Casa and to Chica Boulevard! 

Becca knows me far too well.  I see work happening and I eventually join in.  I'm sure that this small town is highly amused at my yard work outfit...

Monet's Sweatshirt update:  Body done (used 1/2 of the wool and merino yarn, and slightly over half of the silk), sleeve #1 started.   There will be enough of the wool and merino; jury's still out on the silk.  Those skeins are so varied that ordering more is a real crap shoot, so I'm hoping.  I'll knit to the elbow of sleeve #1, then do the same for sleeve #2, then make the call on 3/4 or full-length sleeves.  Becca's already angling for the 3/4 length decision, just based on style.  Getting this baby to photograph well is a challenge - I'll have to try again when twilight settles in; for now, this will have to do. 

(It's not quite this bright in real life, and yes, as Hagrid says of Fred, George, and the Forbidden Forest, I seem to spend half my life untangling the *%^^%$^%$# silk ball.  Very fuzzy.  Really not fun.  I am renaming Tibetan Silk yarn "Gordian.")

Anyone who tells you that you can't knit with 5 needles and 4 balls of yarn on one half of your lap and one cat on the other has never met Pseudo.  He takes "insinuating" to whole new levels. 

Blake graced the indoors with a visit this afternoon: 

Next up here is a culinary endeavor; something about playing in the dirt - in however limited a fashion; my yard elves didn't leave much for me to do! - has given me a taste for sirloin with red wine and mushroom sauce. 

There's still some of Rho's Hogwarts Cake left, too!

What Dogs Do Because They Don't Like Bubble Baths:

Finally, Anne, this one's for you :)

P.S.  In honor of my Shakespearean friend Anne:  If my students stumble onto this blog, they will receive bonus points for identifying the poetic device used in the subject line, the salutation, and the first conditional clause in the post-script. :)