“I wonder. If more of us painted, more of us drew, more of us tended our gardens, more of us wrote poems and stories, if more of us Created from the artist within…. wouldn’t it all be a much better world.
I look at the skies above
and wonder.” quoted from debiriley’s blog
The truth is there are artists all around us. We just need to pay attention.
Here in the grey snow covered and rain soaked hills of North Western Connecticut one doesn’t always expect much culturally but this weekend proved that there is hidden fire in these hills.
Hartt School of Music hosted the Northeast Horn symposium and offered three concerts to the public at large. What a treat for both my husband and me. Playing horn is definitely a thing of our past and while Jamie was first horn in all state it was only a minor part of my musical study but we both still truly love the horn. And to be privileged to talk with and listen to these musicians in intimate surroundings was one of those incredible experiences to treasure-to be immersed in the nuances of the sound and repertoire of French horn for a weekend of three concerts for less than the cost of a bus ticket to Boston-wow!
Pieces included works by Gounod, Beethoven, Holst, Rapoport, Dukas. Glazunov, and others including a beautiful piece by James Naigus for 9 horns just released called Harvest Lights. Imagine towering white pines against the blue sky and golden sun filtering through the woods-well that’s where my mind took me when I closed my eyes. Horn is so awesome and to hear the difference of sound demonstrated between Viennese horns, Bruckner horns (James Summerville played on one of the original 1887 horns only recently replaced by the BSO by a new set. It was clear, sweet –took me back to my childhood in Symphony Hall) and classical and bright modern double versus velvety deep Wagnerian Oh gee!
And so we got to listen to Erik Ralske, Principal horn of the Metropolitan Opera and James Sommerville, Principal horn of the Boston Symphony Orchestra up close and personal.
In addition the programs included other fine horn players including principals of Hartford and New Haven symphony orchestras ,Professors from Yale and Hartt and more as well as an evening with the US Coast guard Band featuring pieces with french horn.-Awesome.
Well I did pick up the paint brush but only briefly. However, now when I close my eyes I see golden horns and when I listen to recordings I can sometimes identify the type of horn being played. It’s like pigments and colors in watercolor only overtones and sonority/color in music.
i think a still life or figure study with a french horn is my next challenge if only i can get one decent wave!!
(angel in the dust wishing she could share the beauty all around her with you)
Really I am too tired to do any thing creative tonight except say “HI”
My trip is safely accomplished with a fulfilling visit to my Mom and more than enough emotion to fill a day and more.
I loved coming home to some new poems and plein-air sketches-thank you Shari and Owen. I do think the Mass pike ought to be renamed the Massacre pike. Every time I travel it it gets worse, even on a Sunday. But I played some great CDs to keep me company:
“All the Roadrunning”-Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris, from home to Westfield and
“Passion”-Judy Handler and Mark Levesque, from Westfield through Worchester (which gave me the advantage of a comforting virtual co pilot on the way out) and then-
“Kindred Spirits”-Carrrie Newcomer, and “New Day”-Kings Singers, on the way home (all good companions).
My mind does not achieve neutral very easily.
I wonder though if I could still do one little w/c study???
Come back, Come home. I’m gathering the crumbs and stones. Been traveling faster than my soul can go….I can’t seem to get grounded but its time to move on, to work on something different. Oh it’s exciting and fun but just now i feel like Carrie Newcomer in her song, “The Speed of Soul”-
One subject line, one click away,
But at the end of day,
i couldn’t even say,
The things that i had done.
So i spent the morning sweeping floors,
i don’t want much more,
Then to do just one thing at a time,
And call it mine.
Come back, Come home. I’m gathering the crumbs and stones. Been traveling faster than my soul can go.
i am still trying to practice YES (Yoga, exercise, and sketching)These are from yesterday though and tomorrow takes us up to Vermont so…Who knows maybe i can carry YES within me?
There’s such a lot of world to see-Breakfast at Tiffany’s-
Moon River, wider than a mile,
I’m crossing you in style some day.
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker,
wherever you’re going I’m going your way.
Two drifters off to see the world.
There’s such a lot of world to see.
We’re after the same rainbow’s end–
waiting ’round the bend,
my huckleberry friend,
Moon River and me.
Painting to music is good therapy. I do recommend it. Here are a few (with 2 variations) of my 2 minute scrambles. Each done to one song. Enjoy some of your own. It may help you. It will loosen up your painting and give you new insight into the potential of this liquid medium.
Too many of these songs are mine in content and spirit. Sometimes even the words are exactly right on target; ouch!
Trying to untangle my heart from my work knowing they both define who I am and realizing I can’t let one being broken also break the other nor, being the basically optimistic and happy creature that I am, can I built my art on unhappiness and sorrow although historically many artists have. Somewhere out there the sun will shine again. And even if it’s only a one word comment such as, “beautiful”, that will give me a magic moment.
And, yes, I am plying the paint brush only there is no magic just now and I am unable to share mud with my dear readers. They deserve better.
I would never have dreamt of going to a reunion let alone a High School one, however, when this 50th plus 1 year reunion came up on the same day and in the same town for which I had already made plans to visit my Mother I decided to chance going to it.
I traveled alone and after a good visit with my Mother attended the gathering.
I went, of course, with my owm in spirit at least, and had a wonderful time for I listened more than talked, stuck to water and ice for refreshment, and focused primarily on getting to know the women.
My classmates and I (at least those who came) are a pretty neat group of interesting people. I hope many of them will take the time, as I will, to reach out and affirm the connections we made or remade this afternoon. As we shared stories I did discover that staying married for almost 50 years made one decidedly unusual although I assured others that one could view that achievement as problematical even if highly honorable.
On the long drive home I had the pleasure of listening to a lovely harp concerto by Ditterdorf and the tone poem The Moldau (‘Vltava” in Czech) from Smetanas series Ma Vlast thanks to the superb sound system my loving husband got with the car he chose for me. And I gave thanks to mp for helping me learn the value of spending quality time in connection with other people especially with my mother. And, most importantly, I drove very attentively.
Angel in the dust
PS i am working on w/c sketches of guess what-ROADS! the ones in the country are lovely.
My job is to keep the faith and keep working. At some point the parts will coalesce to make a beautiful whole. First each brushstroke must carry the right amount of pigment and water and be placed confidently on the paper at the right moment working wet into wet or almost wet or dry against wet or… there are so many variations. I really like to work to music because it allows me to be less mindful and freer with my brush strokes. And yet at times it is essential to slow down and be very careful and deliberate or to stop altogether which is why I am typing at the computer right now. I shall have to learn to run more than one painting at a time and then I will be able to pace the work better. It also pays to be very cavalier about the results and not let them matter at all except as a learning experience. Sometimes I feel very discouraged; then I look up at my painting of a flicker looking down at me and I feel better.
Yesterday enjoyed making 5 little pen and ink thumbnail sketches while listening to excerpts from the work of Smetana in our Tuesday afternoon lecture. They’re for some paintings of roads which I have in mind. I really would like to ditch what I’m working on right now and go to work on them and I may. The fall colors will open up a whole new and much brighter pallet. And, boy am I ready for that! I am so tired of grey!
And, really it would be so easy to forget about working, to just go for walks in this beautiful fall weather, and simply dream about painting. Unfortunately doing that won’t make it come together. Nor will pretending that it just doesn’t matter. Work and withstand rejection and try again are what one must do. At some point the “ink will sing”.
Now I am off to join a group on a trip to Sheffield to buy ceramic supplies. Sometimes I think one might view my renewed interest in ceramics as cross training but then I realize it is really one more way in which I am hiding from what really matters. I need to paint only life is too complicated.