The Music Institute of Lexington

I'm in the insane stage of moving to Kentucky. Whereas normal people manage to confine the insane stage to about a week (or a weekend, if they're single and lucky!), I prefer to drag mine out for about a month. I like to find schools that lose my paperwork, as much road construction as possible, and sleep on the floor as often as I can. Okay, some of this was honestly not my choice, or even my fault, but it does seem to keep happening to me. In an effort to achieve a certain optimism, I'll look for the good things of the last few days. Bound to make me feel better, don't you think?

1.) The Music Institute of Lexington, where I'll be working, is fantastic! It's so cool to have a dream of mine suddenly appear before me. For years, I've wanted to help create a community music school, where every facet of musical study was available for all ages and abilities. Poof -- it's here in Lexington! There's a strong emphasis on early childhood programs of different types and even a music therapist on staff! I'll have to see if I can start using that music therapy degree. Even if I weren't looking forward to studying with the faculty at UK, I'd want to move here just to work at the Institute. The director is great, too -- even though I showed up breathless and sweaty a good forty-five minutes late for our meeting, she was great about it. (Blasted Indianapolis! Darn New Circle Road! To think I only allowed an hour and a half extra, when I should have allowed two!) I can't wait to improve the impression I must have made on her.

2.) This is going to be the nicest place I've ever lived. My apartment feels like a real house! There's actual woodwork and everything. Even though I possibly own more books than anyone my age should (and I'm not giving them up, either!), it's a joy to move them in to my built-in bookcases. I'm going to feel like a real person here, rather than a college kid again. I'm so glad!

3.) I have friends in town. I've never moved across the country to live near someone I know before. They live about five minutes away, and it will be so fantastic to have them nearby. T has already gotten me a job and offered me a piano and been an amazing help to have inside the music department. What an incredible blessing!

See? Life is good! I'm tired and stiff and have a lot of work to do, but what a great adventure I'm having! I have plenty of good music and lots of caffeine, and soon I'll be a Real Person again. How's that for a silver lining? :)

From the Poet Baudelaire:

"One should always be drunk,
It's all that matters,
Whether with wine, with poetry, or with virtue,
As you choose."

I don't drink alcohol (why bother acquiring a taste for something that you don't like?), so I suppose I can't really say what it is to be drunk. This Friday, though, I think I came close. I had about fourteen hours of driving with some meetings in the middle. The day was hazy, grey, and sleepy -- perfect conditions for curling up with a good book. Unfortunately, it was rather less perfect for driving, even for those of us who love the call of the open road. I always keep a variety of tapes in the car, so I had plenty of music to keep me going, but I like a little variety, too. Among the recordings I had inherited from my grandmother, I discovered some poetry readings. I may have been tempting sleep, but I put one in somewhere in late Indiana.

There was no danger of my falling asleep! These beautifully wrought words -- everything from the Ancient Mariner to Father William, Psalm 91 to Kubla Khan -- cherished and explored by skilled and lovely voices -- Ronald Colman, Derek Jacobi, Prunella Scales (whose voice is much more lovely than her name), and many other fine British folk I had never before met -- I don't know if I drew breath through the whole tape. There was the elegant, the trite, the scathing, the poignant, the dramatic, and the silly. I was spellbound. I have read a good bit of poetry, of course, but I had never been surrounded and engulfed by it as I was on this Friday. I may have, as Baudelaire recommended, become drunk on words. The very sound of each syllable, rolling over me like waves... Poetry must have been meant to be read aloud, by people who know its music.

PS -- Don't worry about my driving while drunk on words -- my focus was, if anything, greatly improved by my drinking. :)

Potpourri

...I'm a trumpet player again! I'd stopped playing almost six years ago (time flies!), but a friend/colleague asked me to step in with a community band. So I started practicing Friday. Ouch! On Saturday, it felt like someone had socked me on the mouth, but it hasn't been so bad since. First rehearsal last night -- how long has it been since I played a two-hour band rehearsal?! I was predictably shot by the end, but it was so great to be back in the saddle. We perform tomorrow night. Certainly not a great group or necessarily great music (how many Disney songs can you fit in a medley?), but a real blast! Thanks for twisting my arm, Betsy!

...Have you ever gotten home at 4:50 to find a message on your machine asking for a check to be in the mail that night? Have you ever dropped the check in the mailbox with the five o'clock pick-up time at 4:58? How smooth was that?

...My great-grandaddy would be appalled. At the farmer's market this week, I beheld a full crate of prickley-pear for sale! Ah, well -- one man's trash...

...Mark your calendars, folks! Jeanine is throwing things away! This was my first day of serious packing to move for grad school, and I'm determined that I will weed things out. Just maybe, if I haven't used those ten tin-foil pans in the past five years, I don't need them! I can throw them away! I will no doubt continue to be a packrat, but I'm getting more selective. And my parents breathe a collective sigh of relief! :)

...This season, I'm doing an (involuntary) experiment, comparing the tolerability of chiggers t0 that of poison ivy. Chiggers take forever to go away entirely (it's been a month, and they're still healing!), but poison ivy spreads so awfully, in a rather embarrassing and visible way (I'm a little vain about my hands). Anyone have any input?

...God bless the internet! Never in history has it been possible to arrange as many things long-distance and immediately as it is today. Most of my recent admissions process, apartment searching, job procurring, and communicating -- all done via the world wide web. Of course, an amazing number of things still get lost in translation (or in reality!), but such has always been and I dare say will continue to be the case. C'est la vie.

...Yes, folks, my title is spelled wrong! Appogiatura should have a double g. I noticed this right after I published, but who wants to go to all the trouble to change it? Maybe I'll just be unique -- like the people who spell Jeanine with a G or quick with a kw.

Why I Gave Up Teaching

Last night, I had a dream...

Okay, it was mid-afternoon, and I was trying to ward off a migraine. No Cyber Land involved. Anyway.

So, in this frighteningly realistic dream, I was directing an elementary musical. This was one of those extravaganza-type things, complete with set, lights, sounds, acting, dancing, singing, and general chaos. I've done this more often than I care to think about in real life, and they've always been huge successes, despite all the minor catastrophies that go into them. They are cute, preachy, and a lot more work than the educational benefit merits. But everybody loves them. Except maybe me.

In my dream, it was an open dress rehearsal, which we generally perform for the rest of the school. Enrollment must have been up, because the place was packed. The sound guys messed up, jumping to the wrong track on the cd, and then all **** broke lose. They couldn't fix the problem, the kids decided to go "on with the show" in three different ways at once, and I began a slow burn. Finally, we get the show back on track -- and the whole disaster begins anew. After a lifetime of this chaos, I blow up at the kids, get them in their places and quiet, and go back to the sound table myself. The sound guy begins to assure me there is nothing he can do (it happened to be my friend Jake, who's always trying to get me to take life easy -- does he realize how annoying that is to a perfectionist?); I was in the process of letting a string of choice words rip at him when I woke up. I was so incredibly angry about the whole thing that I think I woke myself up. Heart racing, seeing red, I was still absolutely seething, even as I realized it was a dream.

What's the big deal, you ask? I used to have a big problem with my temper as a child, getting overcome with these incredible rages that could have gotten me in a lot of trouble. I thought I'd mastered this as I grew up. I learned ways to vent frustration and anger that, though possibly not really healthy, didn't hurt anybody. Since I've been teaching, I've rediscovered my wrath. It really is like a monster inside, though it seems to feast on me more than others. Sometimes, granted, anger is extremely constructive and right. I had a nice talk with one of the world's best mothers on this point. She never thought yelling would ever be appropriate -- until her oldest was about three. Sometimes it's the only way. I don't think I've left irreparable damage on any of my kids -- they probably don't even remember my blow-ups at all. But it takes so much out of me to be so very angry. I become exhausted and ill and hate myself and hate my students and hate the world and hate my job until the only thing I can do is exhaust myself with practicing or working out enough to sleep, hoping tomorrow will be better. Maybe it comes with being a musician, a selfish, sensitive, artistic type of person; I just can't distance myself from my anger and frustration the way other teachers can. At least, I assume they can, because they keep teaching. Some of these people teach for forty years! Can you imagine? I'd jump off a bridge!

Maybe some people can take it for decades. I survived for five years, but that's it. I quit. Maybe after grad school, I'll have the maturity and perspective to teach again, for another five years before I burn out once more. Maybe not. For now, I'll go attack the piano until my mind goes numb.

Hey, Look! I'm Blogging!

So, the ancient Celts used to have three good (or moderately good) reasons for any action. I find that a decent rule of thumb, so here are my reasons for beginning a blog:

1.) I really need an excuse to take time and process my thoughts, especially since I'm moving (again!) to No Man's Land (okay, Kentucky) where I know nobody (except two good friends from college, but it's different with married folk).

2.) I like reading other people's blogs. Maybe they'll like reading mine!

3.) I'm among the world's worst correspondents, even by e-mail, and this will help people know what's going on in my life -- even if I don't actually tell them.

Of course, when I move away from this snazzy computer with the cable modem, I may stop posting entirely. We'll see. For now, woo-hoo! I'm in the 21st century! :)