Wednesday, February 14, 2007

no go


bridge in Duxbury
Originally uploaded by madabandon.

Well, here I am, at home. The storm and my cold conspired against me, and I canceled my rehearsal; or rather, they will rehearse, but I will not be there to help them. I am feeling somewhat better today, my maniacal sneezing having receded into memory. If the storm continues through the night it will be a replica of the day I was born on my actual birthday. Interesting.

Birthdays are, for me, a time of reflection, and while I could write a book about my reflections, I will offer only a summary of a few major ones:

  1. I am happy with my present life, as I could not have predicted that it would go this way when I was younger, and am thankful that I am able to make my way in the world as an artist. I have had enough successes to enable me to continue and not throw in the towel as some my age end up doing. I spend my days writing music and teaching some incredible students, and I have a place to live that is my own--to answer my own insecurities about such things, which are considerable insecurities--and I have family that I love and Y and my Mabel and Patsy.
  2. I am disappointed in the ways of the world in music, in contemporary non-pop music, in the way that it seems so many composers' works have no SOUL. Facile, glib, expert, yes; soulful, no.
  3. I regret that I don't put more energy into fighting for the things that are most important to me: nature, tolerance, peace. But I believe that the work I do, making music and art and teaching, in some small way contributes positively to the world.
  4. I am not Pollyanna, despite #3. I have more than my share of nasty qualities. I am aloof, I am sensitive to slights, and I loathe laziness of the mind. I can be a little too sharp and testy, especially to those I am closest to; I am overly polite and reserved with those I don't know so well, but know well enough to drop some of the pretense.
  5. I am not afraid of death or my own mortality.
  6. I am coming to accept my bipolarity and the mania and depression that flit around like weather systems and control my moods. They are not going to disappear, but I am not going to let them throw me the way they so often have in the past.


Ok, enough for now. Back to work...

4 comments:

she said...

you would have appreciated Maya Angelou's presentation last night here in oakland, california

the entire inspirational/educational/entertaining lecture centering around the theme (and poetry) of "composing" our lives, our families, our communities, our world

and we were reminded through stories about her uncle willie - and her own remarkable life, the phenomenal impact, longevity and contagiousness of our everyday words, actions and communications

it seems to me artists/teachers like yourself reach & positively impact more people, in more ways, across more borders over longer periods of time, than can (or should) be measured

and the beauty in it all to me, is how often this occurs through the unsuspected, overlooked (and often neglected) process of each person discovering and then sharing their individuality: the comedy/the tragedies, the confusion, the successes, the failures

and i also must share here these wonderful words she shared with us last night in her ongoing effort to connect the disconnected

"i am human. and because i am human, nothing human can be alien to me"

i believe your birthday is tomorrow/yes?

happy birthday!


(i spy my lucky numbers in your post time/that means a happy valentines day too)

about a boy said...

im not afraid of death or mortality. i came to grips with it a couple years ago. its quit uplifting.

lodgerlow said...

I've been reading your weblog for two years. As a result I know more about you and your daily life than I do about any of my friends (ha ha) or relatives. Looked at objectively that's a strange thing. I know where you grew up, where you go for your holidays, how you feel about your job, the Bush administration, your struggle with bipolar/medication/mood, what you cook when you have visitors, how your lovely red Volvo was repeatedly approached by model scouts, nice childhood memories, unpleasant teenage memories, the grief you felt at the loss of Pomona and Tuna... lots of stuff.

Plus you've shared so many gorgeous photos of your gorgeous self and your pets and flat and neighbourhood. Some of which I have an unhealthy fondness of!

Happy Birthday buddy. I hope that the storm continues through the night.

madabandon said...

thanks, everybody :-)