I’m in a Philip Glass loop. Violin Concerto #1, 2nd movement. I was introduced to this piece at the Seattle Symphony last night as a prelude to Ravel’s “Bolero”, which is what I was really there to see. And since I have a tendency to play something to death when I realize I like it, here I am. In a loop. Of course, when I Googled him upon my return home I was delighted when I saw his face, being a supreme fan of Chuck Close. It’s amazing how things are linked.
I’ve been staring at this 5-foot canvas in my apartment for a week now. I’ve been waiting for it to tell me what to do, but so far communication has been nonexistent. I’m beginning to take it personally. I’m thinking it’s resentful that I let Doppler lick it. Sorry, I didn’t think it would be so offended. Although, in it’s defense, I think anyone would feel this way. I do find myself discouraging this behavior when he engages in it with houseguests. Sorry, canvas.
I also think it’s miffed that I’ve been spending more time with my new iPhone than I have with it. I think Doppler shares this sentiment as well. I get the impression he intends to destroy it while I’m sleeping. I’ve caught him eying it menacingly. He’s even been head-butting it while I’ve been organizing my icons and browsing apps. Okay, so perhaps it’s a problem. I admit it. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery. I can put it down any time I want to. For instance, I’m writing this on my desktop as opposed to my shiny new handheld device. Oooh, wait…lemme see if there are any app updates; one sec…
It better not snow. Everyone’s squealing about the snow potential. But they don’t have a car that protests frozen precipitation, a commute to Lynnwood, and a 4-week-young job in which they’re still trying to impress their employers. Gah. (“Gah” has been my impulsive response every time the mention of “snow” has occurred today. It’s all I’ve been able to muster.)
…and I’m still looping.
I would love to be able to play the violin. But I can’t even figure out what the hell to do with this canvas and I’ve been painting for years, so who am I kidding?
Bloody hell. It’s snowing.