Zita is not the patroness of poetry

That would be really convenient. I have always wanted, very badly, to be into poetry or, even better, to be able to write poetry. I have to write a narrative poem for English Lit and hear I am doing anything but. I guess I've been told too many times that my stories need to be longer and I have lost the ability to say much in few words. Blah. So I sat down to do it and ended up writeing something like a story. I don't know how I'm going to get it down to poetry format and a decent length that wont make my classmates hate me when I have to read it aloud.

I am taking violin lessons this Winter! *dance* I haven't met the teacher they have there yet. They hide her office away under some stairs in a dark corner. It took me forever to find it. Then she wasn't there. Bother. I am going to take voice lessons too but I have to take a few prerequisite classes first. The voice lessons are going to be more important. I am ten times more a singer than a violinist but the violin is still so special to me that I am more excited about that.

So the violin lessons have been bouncing around in my head and the art project I'm doing right now (which you will probably get tired of seeing over Christmas break, so I won't go into detail yet) involves me drawing my violin. So I sat down to write a narrative poem. I wanted to write about something I had actually experienced so it had to be my story and the first thing that came to mind was the violin. Go figure. Do they call that 'stream of consciousness' writing where you just write whatever comes to your mind at the moment. When I do it, it makes for very short, choppy sentences and odd phrases that only make sense to me. A lot like what I do on this blog most of the time. I couldn't write a poem till I know the story I was going to tell so I wrote down what I remember feeling and thinking at two moments long long ago. Only time a sleep will tell if I can make it into a poem.

~*~

"What do you want to play" my mother asked me. Maybe if I'm quiet and don't look up, she will not ask again or expect an answer. Everyone plays an instrument. Someday I would too. But what? Names bounced around in my head, each hopping to be the one that made it into my mouth. Something different, something new. Not the Piano or the Guitar. Dad and Dana played those. But what sound did these other names make. Bassoon? Oboe, Clarinet? That thing that's like a guitar only round. What's that called? Cello, Violin? No, not the violin; every one plays that. I wonder what they sound like. What wonderful sound comes out of a bassoon? The Clarinet has a lovely sounding name but when you strum or pound or blow across it, what music does it make? None of these are safe. This one will be mine. Name... name... "What do you want to play?" My mother asks again. She doesn't know what anxiety she is causing. Panic. Name... name... a different name. "Banjo." I proclaim. My mother blinks. What is a banjo? I think I knew once but the image has flown. I think it has strings. Mother gets an encyclopedia and we look it up. She reads to me about it and I look at the picture. It's that thing that looks like a guitar only round. Darn. That's not mine. I want her to stop. Go away and let me go back to the game I was playing. Forget that I said anything. I'm too little to play the banjo or anything anyway. But she doesn't. She tells dad and our friends. They think it's interesting and always look so surprised. Why can't they forget? They forget all sorts of other things. Like how I'd like a doll for Christmas, and how I don't like cake or chocolate. I have to be introduced to every adult they know who plays the banjo. I have to look interested when they talk to me about it. I have to think of something to say.

Dana has piano lessons down town in a room with lots of electric keyboards and headphones. Dad and I go with her. I'm too little to play the piano. Dana doesn't like to. I wish I could wear the headphones and play so no one could hear but me. Dad is going to get some guitar strings at the music store. We walk together between the tall buildings, in and out of the square patches of sunlight. our shadows stretch in front of us. The music store is filled with warm tingling air. There are instruments everywhere. "Here is a banjo." Dad says. He shows me how to hold it and some chords to play when you are tuning. Dad can play anything. The banjo holds no interest for me. Why don't they forget? I know what most of the instruments are but they hold new magic when they are right there; real and solid. There is a violin on a special stand on a table. It is so quiet there, all by itself. We stare at each other, the violin and I. Violin is graceful and small but I am smaller. The polished wood seems to glow and the gentle swell and curves fill my vision. Someone in the shop is telling me to try it. Try what? They hand me the bow. A strange tool. It feels awkward in my little fist. You are supposed to draw it across the string. I don't want to pick up the instrument itself. It's too big for me. I might drop it. I see the beautiful wooden pieces scattered across the floor. The violin will have to stay where it is. I twist my arm around to draw the bow. Slowly, carefully, gently. Something in me is trembling and the world seems to have fallen completely silent. I can feel how very busy we are when we are trying to hold still. The brightest thing in the room is that wooden instrument. The pale horse hair makes contact with the silvery string. Clumsily, for all my shyness. The music is an awkward scrunchy sound. The shop keeper and dad, who have just appeared again, laugh, not unkindly. I get all jittery and try not to knock anything over as I replace the bow. I smile and laugh too. What a silly noise. Dad pays for his guitar strings and we leave. I look back. There is the violin. It still rings in my ears. I know it was not a nice sound, but it rang. Everything vibrated and tingled. The sound is bigger than me but I made it. I want to do it again.

Jessie Update

Here is the picture Aunt Mary requested. This is the lovely lady Jessie
Jessie has bronchitis so she is not looking her best. She protested and yelled to her daughter for help but it was of no avail, we took the picture anyway.Like I said, she is sick right now. So your prayers are needed. For her speedy recover or peaceful death. God's will. Mean while she has found an edition of the Catholic Catechism that would be perfect to get for her family members for Christmas. If only it wasn't so expensive.... Where does my mother buy raisins?

Tap

One of the things I'm liking about going to school is the library. It's not a very big library, not like the Eastern library or the Gonzaga library but it has a a set of the complete works of Palastrina which is very surprising. The best part for me is that it has a collection of obscure musicals. It's a small colection but they have some of my favorites and some I'd never seen. So weekends have taken on a whole new meaning too. Friday means I check out a musical to watch on Saturday night.
There was this era of movie musicals that might be the golden era. When Judy Garland and Fred Astair and Ginger Rogers and Gene Kelly and all those classic stars were singing and tapping and doing both at the same time. There are some real duds from that era too. We watched some that dragged so much in the second act and were so depressing that we didn't finish them. But we have found some real gems too.

This is all Heidi's fault, by the way. She posted this amazing video of Gene Kelly tap dancing in roller skates (yes. I'm serious) and I watched it one Friday morning before I went to school. It totally made my day. I don't know why watching people tap dance makes me happy but it does. David likes it too. On my way home I looked at the DVD's in the library and low and behold, the musical from which the song was taken was sitting on the shelf.

It is called It's Always Fair Weather and it was really fun. These three guys were friends during WWII and they swear (to their favorite bar tender) that in ten years they will return from their various life paths and still be as close friends as ever. So they don't see each other for ten years and when they get back to their old favorite pub they find out that they all changed into exactly the sort of people who can't stand each other. The plot doesn't get much more interesting than that, they all kind of reflect on who they wanted to be when they met again and why they didn't become those people. They are set up to appear together on a TV show. None of them know they are going to be on the show together and by show time they have decided that they hate each other, or maybe just themselves. There were a whole bunch of great dance numbers and lots of silliness and a musical fight scene. I love fight scenes in musicals cause they're choreographed like dances and they usually involve lots of furniture smashing. It ended happily which is important for me; I like movies that are uplifting. The roller skate number was the highlight but the rest of it was well worth watching
too.

The other movie I really enjoyed was Three Little Words staring Fred Astair and Red Skelton. It was about a career of a song writing team and their friendship. I love musicals about friendship. Astair's character wants to be a magician but that seems to be the one corner of show business he can't get into with any success. Skelton's character likes baseball. He's just funny. They spend a lot of the movies harassing each other about their childish hobbies. They harass each other about a lot of things actually. But they mean a lot more to each other then they will admit. Lots of songs, lots of dance (it's Fred Astair after all) lots of comedy (Red Selton is hilarious). Both of these are really simple in story and message there are not a lot of show real brilliance as far as music goes; they are not masterpieces, but on a weekend when you just need to relax they were perfect.
See also Summer Stock.

St. Zita's Project

Remember how I chose St. Zita as my confirmation Saint cause she has all the virtues and qualities that I lack but wish I had? She was a servant and a cook, which are both things I am Not At All by nature. I've always told her that if she wanted me to be a servant at all when I grew up, she would have to make me her project. She and God have teamed up to make me a servant. It's a long process and it's not nearly done. Most of the time I don't notice, it has to do with taking Maleny out to find some pirate boots or doing CC's kitchen job one night while she's away. Most of the time I'm stubborn and don't take the hints. It just occurred to me as I was walking home from Jessie's house tonight that St. Zita was working on teaching me the other half of her earthly profession. I have my English class, and art and music theory but St. Zita signed me up for a cooking class on the sly. For the last few weeks Jessie has needed me less cause she has had other care takers there throughout the day. She's been getting creative thinking of things for me to do. I walk in and she has found some recipe in her book that she has always wanted to make and wouldn't it be fun to try it? We've started simple with custard and chicken soup, banana bread. Someday, she promises me, we will try something really adventurous. I had enough trouble with the banana bread. It's not so bad, I guess.

To keep myself from falling asleep.

I am trying to drill intervals and triads and seventh chords by ear on This Cool Theory Page but the intervals were putting me to sleep even when I was only drilling minor intervals which are not exactly the stuff of lullabies. So I must type about something else to keep myself awake. I refuse to nap!!! I will not be a sleep deprived college student! I had plenty of sleep last night.

So, today is All Hallow's eve. The day before All Saints Day. A rather controversial day in some Christian circles. As always there are a lot of pagan traditions which the Christians converted and then the secularists turned pagan again. I hate it when that happens. Did you know that the tradition of Trick-or-treating comes, in part (it's complicated), from an All Souls Day tradition. Each household would bake little cakes and attach the name of a family member or friend who had died that year to them. They called them soul cakes. The poor would go door to door collecting these cakes and in return they would say a prayer for the soul to which the cake was dedicated. That's one of those odd Catholic practices. Personally, I think it's a great idea, but it is a little odd. The dressing up is in mockery of Satan cause even if it is the night before all saints day, he still can't get us cause like the Saints, we belong to God.
That's what it was about before the secularists got to it: a crazy mix of traditions, fun, and piety, as all true Holy Days should be.

The Big Climb

From the time when you can talk in complete sentences, people are always asking "What are you going to be when you grow up?" I got asked all the time. Even before you can talk people speculate. The thing you are going to 'be' usually refers to the way you will make your living. Sometimes they mean something a little less superficial; ones state in life; married, single, priest, religious. These are the ways people define themselves. When I was little and people would ask it always seemed like they were checking up on me so I wouldn't forget I had a dead line coming up. "You have about twenty two years to figure out how you will define yourself to you'd better be thinking about it." It's a horrible terrifying thing to be the only seven-year-old you know who doesn't have a plan for the future. But where was I going with this.... SPLAT
The Catholic Church says (and I think Protestant Christians would agree) that how you make your living comes second to your personal relationship with your God. The most important thing about your state in life or your place in the world is how it leads you to Christ. Remember in the Gospel (and, typically, I don't remember where or which one it's in or where, silly Catholic) when John the Baptist is preaching and all these different people come to him and ask him what they should be doing with their lives? He tells the tax collectors to quit cheating people etc. pretty common sense, good morality. But the point is that he doesn't tell the tax collectors to get more respectable jobs, he just tells them to do their job honestly. Neither does he tell the soldiers to become tax collectors, they get to God as best they can from where they are. Each of them lives out their own vocation. Your vocation is supposed to be the surest path to God. Everyone is different and so is every one's vocation. (And every vocation fits within the Catholic Church, but that's another rant all together.)
Some years ago someone wrote a musical based on a real person's search for the surest path to God. There are a lot of musicals about people searching for God but this one was a little more explicit. It was especially beautiful in that the character is mainly concerned with loving people; whoever is around, and seeking Christ in them.

When you are looking for that surest path to follow to God there are two things people will tell you to do; (And I speak from personal experience) they will tell you to pray hard and they will tell you to think of every moment, every opportunity, and every person you meet as a vocation. Right now, my vocation is to be a student, a big sister (a little sister) a daughter and various other things. God leads us step by step. Live every day just walking with God in little ways and eventually you will look up and realize you are well on your way on the path God chose for you.

There is a good reason that Sound of Music is so famous. It because it's true; not just cause it's based on a true story, but because Maria's search for her surest path to God is so real. She has it all figured out. She has prepared herself all her life to join a convent. Then, God throws a wrench in her plans via Mother Superior. She is given a whole new place to serve God in a whole new way and has to resign herself to His will. She just takes it one day at a time, trying to understand why God has put her in the house of a sad widow with seven children. She is always guessing at Gods will and she usually gets it half right. She things she's there to prepare the children for their new mother and she's right, sort of, but not really. The amount of love she gives these children that she doesn't even belong to yet is tribute to the love she has for God. "Make me a channel of your peace" St. Francis prayed. That's what Maria is; a channel through which God pours His love on the Trapp family.

Then suddenly she finds herself messing up what she thought was God's plan. There is never a point where she sees that the Baroness is all wrong for the family. We see that as clear as anything, but she never wastes an uncharitable thought on the baroness. As far as she can see, it's God's will for the captain to marry the baroness. Then the baroness tells Maria that the captain is in love with her. That was not supposed to happen. And Maria is in love her him. That was Definitely not supposed to happen. She thinks she has done something terribly wrong. So she flies away back to the Abby where she is sure God really wants her to be. Wrong again. Rogers and Hammerstein did an amazing thing when they wrote some of the songs in this show. Climb Every Mountain is a pretty simple song with not too many words and a beautiful melody. It's a 'Something More' song that puts the search for a vocation into musical theater language. Your spiritual director doesn't usually tell you to follow every rainbow but he might tell you that after a storm, look for the surprise opportunity and open door. The 'dream' in the song is your path to God and it will need all the love you can give, every day of your life for as long as you live. Very cool.

God's plan for Maria is to be the bride, not of Christ, but Christ in Captain von Trapp and the mother of seven happy children. And she continues to live life one step at a time as God leads her.
You all know the songs so I wont tell you how much fun they are. Sometimes they get undervalued cause you hear them so much, but they really are popular for a reason. I really want to know if R&H wrote the vespers and the Alleluia at the beginning. I think they did. I like it.

Karen stranded in a strange library

Karen has two hours of dead time every morning between English Literature and Music Theory. Of course there is homework to do and girls club talks to write and all that important stuff. But is that what I am doing with the laptop I have rented for the two hours? No. But to my credit I'm not on Facebook either. I'm on project play list typing in the titles or first lines of random song I only half remember. I'm in the mood for gospel and spirituals lately. It's very cheerful and hopeful but also quite aware that there are plenty of reasons not to be cheerful and hopeful.

For your information, the voice common to the two duets (Music in the Air and Have a little talk with Jesus) is "sister" Rosetta Tharpe. According to Wikipedia, Rosetta was revolutionary in gospel music because she mixed the jazz and blues and early rock styles into her church music. She shocked the people she sang in church with and was wildly popular with her secular audience. All sorts of people including Elvis name her as an inspiration or a favorite.
I don't know who is singing This Little Light of Mine. But I thought it sounded pretty good. So there it is.
And there is some music from Sister Act and Sister Act II and I know that's just sick and wrong but I can't help it. I like it. As a matter of principal I have to hate those movies but I'm a sucker. I hope I never hear that particular version of the Hail Holy Queen in church but it sure is fun on it's own, even with the phony Latin. The second one was better.