rachmaninoff days

Then I went to work, found out that two people I really liked there are gone...one fired, one resigned.
On days like this, the harp is a godsend. I lose myself in the music, as clichéd as that may sound, putting all my focus into remembering the fingering, the technique, the melody struggling to get out from beneath my fumbling fingers. I resorted to something similar when I practised piano, though I was more competent on that instrument...I could focus on more than technique. Rachmaninoff was the best...it was wonderfully therapeutic, pounding out enormous chords that thundered their way down the length of the keyboard as the floorboards shook.
I've retuned my harp...from C to Bb. Takes more concentration now to flip the levers to the right key, but at least now I can play in F and Bb now (which matters terribly).
Then I called Allison. She's gotten used to this now, I think, me calling out of the blue to talk about nothing in particular. "I'm making dinner," I tell her. "What are you making?" she asks patiently. Then tries very hard not to laugh when I discover that I don't have a working can opener, or that I've somehow managed to burn my dinner while standing less than a foot away from it. :-)
Today's blatherpic: Jeff, Scott, and Brian, a couple of weekends ago. I quite like this picture.

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