30 June 2022

Poem 7, 2022

Superboy!

You have a liking for high places
Dissecting plain skies
Looking down on people
Dissolving into borders

Because you wish to fly
You build a habit of jumping
Too good for the ground
Disinterested in the center of the Earth

Or whatever may be underneath

Your kink is empty, nothing
More rousing than open air
No walls for secrets to lean on
Can I be with you up there

—Razel Estrella

25 June 2022

A lamb with a sunset in the clouds

So I have gotten into the habit of recording my piano practices because reasons (that have got to do with skills development and, admittedly, vanity).

This morning I countinue my journey into the Mikrokosmos. Yep, I do every single exericse in order. These mini etudes give me a quick sense of achievement. There is always something I could take to the finish line within one sitting or, at most, a week's time; say, sight-reading on day one, bringing out the dynamics on the next couple of days, then finally keeping it up to tempo. It feels good.

My newest favorite from the series is Number 48 – In Mixolydian Mode. I really enjoy teasing out the music here. Though it has a prominent melody, it's pretty bare when it comes to phrasing and dynamics. I'm proud of my interpretation. Extra pat on the back for me when the music I hear in my head and eventually play matches Béla Bartók's one-minute tempo.

Later this morning my niece drops by the apartment and hears my recording of the piece. Her comment: "It's like a lamb with a sunset in the clouds."

Well done me.

02 June 2022

Yesterday

it was raining outside, and I was outside.

I liked that I had shoes fit for the weather.

Inside a Starbucks the pleasures of cliché: new Ishiguro, cake and cappuccino. Pathetic lady waiting for her man. I didn't want to be seen dead in this unpoetic coffee chain; but I didn't want to die at home either, so I stayed.

Street kids drew penises in three strokes on the glass wall. Elsewhere in the canvas a heart, then letters that led nowhere.

No words, no sense, except from the book I briefly read.

The rain couldn't get a sound through the building, though it sure made its ice felt.

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