rix_scaedu

After I finally finished work (our theory-of-change meetings are getting existential, this one gave me such a headache), I went outside to sit outside in perfect weather, barefoot, listening to the radio, reading my library book, and enjoying the smell of the neighbors' lilacs.

Then I made an easy dinner, and then D and I cycled to a nearby pub for a pint. A big trip for him! It's lovely that he's feeling up to doing stuff now that the weather is making it so much more fun to do things.

After my alarm went off this morning I was lying in bed for a few minutes, listening to the sounds come in through the open windows. I heard a truck on the nearby big road, a train zoom past on the railroad tracks, a plane overhead, sirens doppeling down the road.

Felt like I was living in Busytown for a second there!

A friend told me that Pauline Oliveros wrote some meditations for listening, apparently she called it Deep Listening. He said hearing things through a window like that is a great and grounded way to start the day.

Yesterday ended up so unexpectedly nice, I wanted to record it.

D messaged me mid-afternoon to say that circuits was happening again that evening. I used to love transgym circuits, I did that as well as lift club almost every week and I've never been happier. But then our usual awesome trainer stopped doing circuits, which is fair enough but I was/am so used to their style and so comfy with it, and then the replacement started doing more of a boxing style fitness class, which was not to my taste (or accessibility needs: my lack of depth perception was posing too much of a problem) and then I kept being busy on those nights or whatever and I just stopped going some time last fall I think.

But I've really missed circuits; I love circuits. It feels like such a good workout for me: I can do even exercises I hate for a minute or two at a time, I never get bored, and I feel at the end like I've really Done Something. I used to have to bring bandanas to tie around my head to keep from getting too much sweat in my eyes, and I forgot to do that last night and really missed it! Because it's hard work.

And most of the people there weren't our usual old circuits people but people I knew from lift club who hadn't been to circuits before (or, did it like once a very long time ago or whatever). Including one of my favorites, who I said I'd meet outside and go in with together. I was really excited for him because I thought he'd love circuits and he did.

And, when I suddenly found myself with plans to be out for the evening I thought I'd start dinner prep right after work -- i did this last Friday when I went to yoga. But as I was still peeling sweet potatoes, D came downstairs, having finished work earlier than usual, and offering to help. So we just made all of my very easy plan for dinner (bangers and mash) and I had plenty of time to eat before going to the gym. It was lovely to spend the time together, it made an easy thing easier but also just so much more fun: being silly together in the nice sunny kitchen (I'm still not used to it being that bright at dinner time! it wasn't totally dark when I was getting showered after the gym, at about 9pm! bliss).

And I'm very glad I was able to eat beforehand: even with V warning me as I left the house "take it easy! you're out of practice!", even though I did take it easy, I was so sore by the time I got home. I knew not to sit down before I got upstairs and in the shower because I'd never stand up again. But I was so happy, too -- and it wasn't just the endorphins making me think that.

Since the day that I had no brain juice, I feel like I've been improving slowly, but from a low bar.

I had to miss a social thing that D's girlfriend organized on Thursday night, and I didn't go to D&D (also at her house) this afternoon because I've had a stabby bad-nystagmus-day headache on and off all afternoon and didn't think anything so visuals-intensive would be good for me. Between this and no lift club yesterday, I've been feeling in need of more socializing. And I feel like I didn't make much of my weekend, last night aside.

Last night was amazing though. After a little bit of annoyance at the insufficiency of the transport information given between the Britain First rally (ugh) that afternoon and preparations for the marathon today, both of which were between my house and the Bridgewater Hall, I determined the train would be best and -- with a little bit of running at the last minute -- it went smoothly. Like I said, it was angelofthenorth's first visit to the Bridgewater Hall, and I was glad that she liked it as much as I hoped she would -- she already wants to go back in the next few days.

We had surprisingly great seats, considering that when I called up to get tickets and was asked where I want to sit, I said I didn;'t care and I just didn't want to pay a lot. I don't think I'd heard Duke Ellington's Harlem before, but just like all the Duke Ellington I had heard it was a delight -- highlights were watching the conductor Joshua Weilerstein bouncing and flailing around, almost as if he was dancing to the music himself. Miriam exclaimed to me afterwards about the harp matching the double-basses.

The second piece, Nikolai Kapustin's Piano Concerto No. 4 was introduced to us as "wacky jazz but with rock, soul and maybe even funk hiding behind the very bland name. From where we were sitting, I could admire the pano soloist Frank Dupree in his forest-green suit who always had his hans flying around the piano keyboard, but next to his grand piano was a drummer at a trap set who was arguably a second soloist for the piece. It was really extraordinary, a ton of fun. When they finished, the pianist said "Would you like to hear some more?" (much to the surprise of the conductor, M later told me! she did the best audio description) and the well-mannered audience cheered enthusiastically enough that he seemed genuinely surprised in his reply, "Wow!"

For this obviously the orchestra wasn't involved, just him and his drummer pal whose name I didn't catch. The other musicians on stage watched along with the rest of the audience as these two played Kapustin's Concert etude No. 1. It had a drum solo! During which Dupree "snuck" away from his piano to come up behind the drum kit, theatrically grab a couple of drum sticks, and play right along with the drummer in a call-and-response way that deserved the chuckles it got (including what sounded like some use of the music stands etc.), with him getting back to his piano stool and send his fingers flying across the keys.

And then after the interval the main event, Antonín Dvořák's Symphony No. 9 in E minor, ‘From the New World’ which the intro said some of those players might have played 100 times, or 50 times. He described it as helping them pay their mortgages. The audience was asked how many had seen it performed before, how many had listened to it... M was expecting us to be asked how many of us had played it, to which of course I'd have been so excited to raise my hand. I hadn't listened to it in about 20 years, but I knew almost all of the symphony, and when we got to my beloved last movement, I couldn't sit still in my seat. I played bassoon for that in a band that didn't have strings, so I heard familiar parts not just in the bassoon but cello and double bass. Neurons that haven't gotten to light up for 25 years got to glow.

We joined the crowds decanting ourselves into the shiny darkness and on to Oxford Road station, with about ten minutes before our train home. I was still so excited I couldn't sit down while we waited.

So I wish I'd made more of my weekend to fend off burnout and some challenging things ahead of me this week, but last night was better than I had any expectation it would be.