april rain in may and musing and musicing

things have been all kinds of colours lately, changing through the courses of the day- the warmest yellow of the morning to the opaque grey of rain clouds- reminiscent of april, sharp contrasting burning orange of the sun cracking through the haze of spitting rain, the blue-grey sky set on fire with magenta bright dusk and the deepest velvety royal blue of the night. and the way the fire crackles in the dark. now, am i referring to the actual fire or mr. salamander? ay- i guess you will never know. do i know? well, i should but would i? ah. not so important. just thought i would throw that out there in case you were wondering what fair creatures ive been watching. baa lambs are rather special though. esp. when wearing a neon pink coats. i still have no idea what that's bout, but nearby fiddler lady tells me it's a weathercoats for the young-uns.

well. that's style for you.
for sheeps.

the high peak district, where i am staying now, is also full of little silly lambs and somewhat irritated mothers of theirs, dotting the green pasture with unexpected movements and phrases. even the quiet stone walls will change ever so subtly during the day. much music making as well- we had a local church concert of schubert trout which went splendidly. two new musicians i met here, steve and diane, were absolute joy to play with and i am super glad to have another chance to play such beautiful music. ooh and mr. fiddler (that would be mrs. fiddler's man, no joke really) and i have been some mutually respected butchering of piano four hands. that was really too much fun i have to say. and to report, yes, mr. salamander plays the fiddle brilliantly. gosh. i sound like a brit. someone bring some bitters for this monkey.
it's an interesting thing to play my bread/butter with mr. salamander because you see, he's really done everything else but that instrumental-piano bits. i can barely keep up. hooray for me for now.

am sure any time now, i be burned for so casually 'offering' to 'read' some stuff.

while briefly looking over the net before the concert for some program note references, i ran into a transcription of a dialogue regarding the trout from ax, ma, young, frank and meyer session. and as one follow their discourse, it becomes impossible not to smile. very touching bits.

Pamela Frank: We all adored each other. And the "Trout" is such an open, happy piece. There’s no room for agonizing and debate. It sort of plays itself, if you have five people who are as attuned to each other as we were.

Yo Yo Ma: You can tell when you play with someone just by looking at their eyes, where their soul is. If they’re closed in, they can’t really look at you When you play with Pam, you can tell that she’s constantly looking, adjusting, thinking things out. She’s like a painter, trying to get the proportion and balance right. And all with a wonderful spirit.

things in england trip has been beautiful. i am exposed to many new things and am learning to open up and see some old things in new perspective. also found is a new appreciation for old values that i have forgotten, because well, life can so easily wear one out. and then you are left with a shell of who you once was, and like dried up twig, you lose yourself a bit by bit. however, i have been experiencing a new level or enrichment. and new appreciations.

well, it's not likely that all things always go well. there are some minor things that always turns up a bit shaky. things that one never expected or thought of. often unpredicted and perhaps a tad bit unnecessary; but i suppose that's life. i wonder how much of importance i may give it to the small things at the moment. one may be aware of such things, then one is left with choices: do i pursue an action or do i not take an action? if so, when/where, the list goes on and on.

small things are never less important than larger things. they just are smaller. vice versa, if you let it grow larger than it ought to be, it'll grow. consume. with fury and anger. like a smallest splinter underneath your nail. everytime you bother it, it moves another mm down your skin, causing immense pain and inconvenience. if you are really unlucky, you may even have to bring it to a doctor.
but at the same time, it is important that one keeps a good perspective on things i believe. as much as one could.

as much as i would like to be able to act upon the small however important things in life that may be surprisingly unpleasant in its present manifestation- like everyone in this world, while sitting, i think i can solve all problems of the world. how silly of me really. while i am at it, i may even be able to convince myself to be delusional and claim that i am absolutely right.

but there is no need i suppose.

like pimples, sometimes i need to walk away from the mirror. and give it some time to tend to itself. and may be no one will notice that pimple anyways. it's only afterward that youve told millions of people that youve got an annoying pimple that people take notices. and unlike the million-dollar budget ads, there's no real cure for pimples. you sometimes just get a bit of unexpected stuff and that's that. the best would be to leave that stuff alone and wait for a bit, see if it sorts itself out somehow. it always will. i never heard of anyone dying of pimple really.

personal dilemmas are funny things. like dirty or even clean laundry, i feel that perhaps even when i try to keep things anonymously as possible, it just may not be possible. there is a great temptation to use this anonymous space as a mental let out. hiding behind, rather than contemplating and taking actions to a situation. and more i think of such downfall, often more enticing it becomes. though things are as well as it could be, there always are couple things that just arent fitting exactly the way i want to be, and yes, i am bothered with small things, like just another human being. but what is to do? would my actions would actually bring out any positive outcomes at the moment?

my mother always told me: if you are nice to someone who's nice to you, you arent being nice, you are being merely civilized. now, when someone's done you harm and you squeeze the courage to be nice to them, then you are being nice.
how irritating when the old lady is right. ha ha.

whatever action i may take, i dont think it'll provide any useful discourse at the moment regarding these specific issues. often i just want to be irresponsible and do that old christian eye-to-an-eye thing. but. alas. to what end? bitterness and misunderstanding can stain anything with the deepest anger and hatred. like palestine and israel, which i consider them to be at the point of impossible reconciliation (due to too much suffering from both parties).

so, instead, im going to have a cup of real nice tea. and mellow out on the front of mr. salamander's fire in may. because, overall, my life is full of colours and simulations. it's too nice to be wasted on anger. and the fire burns tonight, with no real care of all those sufferings of millions of pimples. let the pimples be. someone has to be ugly.

i also should get on some post-card writing and such. mr. bookbomber, hope you are doing well this side of atlantic as well. godot never came, bastard. btw.

well, sometimes, at least. look at me, i start to get them as i hit late 20s. i am still young in a very special way. go me.

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