as of late

the concert went pretty well - good turnout, confused applause for the messiaen, coughs at the wrong times in the debussy. i think maestro dunkel was pleased.

recent reads: vanishing acts by jodi picoult, a tree grows in brooklyn by betty smith, the sea and the bells (poems) by pablo neruda.

from "ode to salt":

Dust of the sea, in you
the tongue receives a kiss
from ocean night:
taste imparts to every seasoned
dish your ocean essence;
the smallest,
miniature
wave from the saltcellar
reveals to us
more than domestic whiteness;
in it, we taste infinitude.

i'm pumped to find, on iván's recommendation, chagall's autobiography, entitled (in english), my life. there's a copy at the purchase library!


i love the smell of old books. i caved and bought copies of the master and margarita by mikhail bulgakov (knowing my parents, they probably bought me a copy for my birthday), as well as naked lunch, william s. burrough's chef d'oeuvre, at the campus bookstore. i don't have the money to spare, but...somehow, it seemed right.

this week marks my first of rehearsal freedom - more time to learn daphnis and practice my quartertones for denisov.