Magpies are like Blackbirds
|If you borrowed this from me, please return it.|
I am in need of its advice.
(or go find out more about it.)
Poor Z woke up this morning hearing me in the hallway outside her room talking about the snow and she got it in her head that she had a snow day. She and O emerged smiling and went to curl up for a family cuddle on the big bed. "We have a snow day!" she said nestling into me. She was disappointed, and probably embarrassed, nearly to tears when I told her that wasn't so.
And yet they went to school and we went to work, and Friday in general was better than Thursday.
Reading: Hmm ... pizza recipes in a magazine at lunch (none of them particularly inspiring).
Dinner: David and I went to Happy Dog. Do you know they are donating a dollar per dog this weekend to a West Side Market fire cleanup fund? You should go! I had one with marinated cremini mushrooms, garlicky escarole, and spanish onions. Tater tots with chipotle ketchup and garlic aoli.
Soundtrack: So after Happy Dog, we went to CPT to see friend Greg's music/theater/dance/video piece The World Above Us, playing this weekend in Big Box. Greg is a composer and professor of composition and this is his first foray into theater. The music, some also written by Charlie Cheney and Quinn Sands, is lovely, haunting folky pop, (mostly) performed live on stage. Their voices are beautiful together. I wish I had a recording.
I often fear multimedia presentations, but I thought this worked, particularly in the first act, when members Antaeus Dance were more often onstage. The were parts of the first act that reminded me of watching Laurie Anderson perform Strange Angels, which I was lucky enough to see at BAM in the late 80s.
Still playing Saturday. Perhaps you would like to attend after having your hotdog? Be like me!
Addendum [added 2/2 10:20 a.m.] - I had suggested doing February love songs. There's actually one from Greg's show I would like to include. I will query him to see if there is a recording. Meanwhile, enjoy this classic from the Rolling Stones:
Random thing: I said yesterday I would write about poetry here. I am running out of time, but let us say I have had a hankering to read and write more poetry. I have an ongoing tension between my interest in story and my love of moment and associative thought and play of language. I think with the ToT I am so embroiled in the process of narrative that the ability to isolate and examine that poetry offers is appealing to me. I used to a great book, 13 Ways of Looking for a Poem, that I lent to someone who never returned it. I don't remember who.
I found some online discussion of the inaugural poem (I didn't see the inauguration and haven't read the poem yet) that I wish I could go into, but I am out of time. Maybe later.