star_swan: (Addicted to coffee)
So I slept on it. Not very well, mind you. I kept tossing and turning and shifting and waking up at odd hours. Colin being out until three did not help. I can't help but keep an ear out for him. I always seem to get a brainwave right before he arrives home and I hear his key turning in the lock downstairs. After mulling it over and bending Angela's ear on the subect as well, and thinking about the various things that I have read (opinions all, but with merit), I am going to practice three days on, one day off. And I am going to scale back to three hours. Two hours in the morning and one hour in the afternoon/evening. This site says to only do four per week, but I think that my arrangement will work best for me. I will see where I am later and if I want to go back to four per day or not. With this system, I still manage to play six days a week, but the breaks allow a full day's rest sneakily placed in between so it looks like I am getting more rest than I am. In a sense, it is more beneficial rest because I am never allowed to play so many days consecutively that I can tire my hands (or my brain) with new movements, new passages, and whatnot. Three days in a row will allow my enthusiasm some breathing room, but taking a day off right in the middle will curb it enough to allow growth and repair and other things such as reading, chilling, watching a movie without feeling like I have to squeeze it in around practice time, chores, daily life. I also took the weekend off. Sort of. I did practice for a half hour last night, just light arpeggios and a Bach melody with right hand only. OH! This site/blogger/teacher also mentioned the need to continue to practice the hands independently. It allows you to pay attention to and to not miss subtlties. I have noticed that you lose something when you split your focus too soon before each hand has learned its part and force them to play together early on. I try to get the right hand down, then get the left hand down or vic versa depending before trying to add. And then I still will go back and forth if I feel like I've lost something along the way.

Newest obsession: Prokofiev's 3rd Piano Concerto (another Bronfman performance from the same year, 2008). I remember hearing it around fifteen years ago and urgently wanting to know what it was. But I never found out. Then a few weeks ago, I found it again! It forcefully reminds me of something, I know not what. I will probably listen to it a couple more times this evening. It makes me think of blue and dampness, perhaps the ocean. There are misty dales and sunlight. Green and blue.

I listened to it twice again while doing the the massive after dinner cleanup. I am now on my FIFTH listen. I was listening to Martha Argerich play it as well. She and Fima are the masters!! They play it with the verve and intensity that it deserves.

I have marked up my calendar with "P"s for practice days and "X"s for the breaks, just to make it abundantly clear. My goal for this evening is to get to bed early, and chill with a book that I have been wanting to read for awhile, and just relax.


I have decided to do Camp NaNoWriMo because it's a place that shows you your progress and in doing so makes you accountable to your goal. I am thinking of setting it at 33,300 (haha, I am a weirdo). Anything that I do beyond that is gravy! I renamed it again….."From Out of The Rain" just for the purposes of the event. So my daily word count goal is 1,110. I have this number fixation and this works for me! It takes place in a couple of days during the entire month of April.

There is this bonkers show, Broad City, about two women living in New York City. It is very odd. I think that I need to watch more. One of the main characters flashes her VaJaJay at a statue of Peter Stuyvesant whilst riding on a Citi bike in a dress. There are no words…

I am still in love with New York even if I do not babble endlessly about it as much anymore.
star_swan: (Seven BAMF)
What an amazing Saturday after such a lackluster Friday evening. The afternoon was lovely yesterday, but I began to feel more and more tired and sore (in the throat). I felt the front of my throat and it was a little swollen. Cue freaking out. Spent the rest of the evening on the couch watching Shiro Neko videos and feeling a little down. I awoke late cause Saturday. Colin wanted me to leave and give him a couple of hours to himself in the house. I was a little hesitant but I threw on a blazer and jeans after switching out of one of my new dresses and cycled down the path with my bag full of Russian books, counterpoint, and a hardcover journal that I write in once a week to sort of check in on myself, life listening to The Strokes on my iPod. I had no clue where I was going, but I wound up on this one path just past the library on campus. It is the perfect combinations of sunshine and shade. I was grateful that I changed because the ground was hard and it was still a little chilly. I sat there listening to music, reading last week's entry and then writing a new one occasionally sketching tree branches. It was lovely. When the music stopped, I just sat there and listened to the surrounding art buildings humming and the birds for about an hour.
Cycled past people sunning themselves by the lake and proceeded with haste to WF to relieve my bladder. Got a snack and a coconut water and wandered for a little bit. Hung out in the arboretum listening to Brahms' Violin Concerto in D. Watched the birds and this ridiculous ginger cat that I once tried to collect and take back to his oblivious caretakers on a rainy afternoon last year. My throat felt a bit better and was noticeably less swollen! Hooray! It was so nice lazily taking in the sights and listening to tunes. Felt so good to be alive watching the sun glint off the trees, the water, the people walking past. It was like the town was my backyard, I felt so at home. Colin texted to apologize for pseudo kicking me out but I was well pleased. Sitting there listening to music rekindled my resolve to not waste any time with writing and with music, but also to get a grip. I set a rough date as a goal for having everything together, how I get there is up to me complete with marathon work periods and days here and there of rest and slacking. I need that freedom at least to maneuver in time and space. So by May 2016, I want to have a first draft of the novel ready (or perhaps what I mean is a revised version that could be ready to show to someone) along with considerable improvement on the keyboard and with musical studies. I want to have written something or be really exploring composing.

I ran into my folks on the way back, sprinted to the house to use the bathroom again and then went back out to meet them back at WF. Listened to Petrushka. It is a little weird and sort of sad, but I love it. On the way back I lost sight of them behind me and so lingered by Hart Hall and these poplars that I like. Sat on a bench for someone named "Jennifer" who passed away several years ago by the looks of the bench, probably within the last ten. She couldn't have been more than thirty-something. I patted the bench and told her that I was sorry that her life ended so soon.

By the time I made it back for the second time (and saw Colin and Callie on the path this time), I was pretty tired. It is a little before eight and I am exhausted. My throat is a bit better, but still a little rough and I was out all day. So nice though. I want to look at Russian, but I need to lie down a little first.
star_swan: (Sunflowers)
Just left a possibly, stupidly long quotey comment on my friend's A03. I think that I wound up mostly quoting and gushing and scarcely leaving any (to my mind) insightful or useful commentary. I am blaming my period brain. I read it a couple of days ago. But I have been too tired to formulate a coherent response. Haha, so this was slightly less incoherent than what it would have been had I commented yesterday or the day before, only every so slightly...
Fuck, I love her stories. There is only the now and all it affords you to feel in explosive colors that bleed out of you in the hopes of touching others.

There is a lovely breeze out. The relative temperature (relative to wherever you happen to be: the grass, the pavement, the patio all vary by degrees) outside is warm, but it is still nice. I am longing for a storm, for dampness. That would make my life right now. I realize why the change is so comforting, apart from it being what I was born into, what I am used to, what I grew up with. There is so much (more) sensation in a storm, the drop of the barometer, the accumulation of moisture that you can feel and smell on the surface of your skin, inside your nostrils, caressing the airways of your lungs. And standing in the rain with all of your free nerve endings alight with the cool droplets pouring down from the sky, rolls of thunder in your ears, flashes of lighting bouncing off your retinas. Wow. I miss it. I never thought directly about it, but it is an enveloping sensory experience.
Fuck science, really, except for its capacity to afford one yet another pathway for expression. That is what I will use it for. I sincerely hope that no one mistakes me for a true devotee. I am tied down to no belief system, be it outwardly, purportedly religious or vapidly, misleadingly, fallaciously factual in nature. In nature. What the fuck do they know about nature in their ever pressing need to dissect it and lay out all of the bits for further, cold-blooded probing? I believe in the web of life, the interconnectivity of the universe, and in magic. And rainstorms.


In other news...lady parts are stabbing me (but not as much in the feels, it's more strictly physical, thank gods) , Colin is mopey because he seems vaguely dissatisfied/tired and I think it is because he is exhausting himself with theatre and trying to avoid home so much it hurts. I would like him to feel more comfortable (even with nagging grandparents) and to feel safe here. I know that someone like him treats home as a temple and if it can't be, he tends to fall apart a bit. He needs it. We all need it. You can't always be flinging yourself here and there willy nilly. Not even the most outlandish of extroverts can manage that. I told him that I did not want him going into the city alone to see the Front Bottoms, one of his favorite bands. A friend was supposed to go, but she punked out on him. It is not all dire though. Yesterday we went to see Begin Again again and Colin met us after outside the theatre and for a moment everyone looked happy to be in each others' presence(s). That film though....it completes me. XD It was even better the second time around. Just....incredible.

Colin wants to see it again so I will have to take him or give him some money to go see it with someone. Hmm.

I don't often see people with as wide an array of facial expressions as me. What's weirder is when they seem to possess the same ones. o_O This is just random gifs on the internet, nobody around here. Or have you ever encountered people (am I actually addressing questions to my blog now?) who have a rather similar life path, upbringing, sort of only in an odd reversed mirror image sort of way? ...like they moved or did things at around the same age, or grew up someplace wintry and defined by it and you grew up someplace where it didn't ever exist and you longed for it because you glimpsed it in picture books and they wished for the things, conversely, that you had in abundance where snow never touched the ground, a brisk chill never kissed the air? But there are uniting factors like being an only child, the observer. It's like they could be your mirror twin. Only NOT. Yeah, uh. Severe babbling. Bad. Bad. Must stop. Pay no attention to the complete freak behind the curtain...this has nothing the hell to do with anything. Any resemblance to...is purely blablabla etc.

Oh and, Colin said the other day that I am the most awkward person that he knows. WHUT?

I feel like a fool for wanting little quiet, happy moments and perhaps I am making a big deal of it, but I can't stand it when he is just lying there in his room, clearly moping and feeling sorry for himself. I am allowing him to get away with it for about another hour or two before I need to make dinner and then he is talking to me whether he likes it or not. This is ridiculous. He is trying to learn six new songs in a short period of time and I can tell that he is receding in the face of feared failure. His room is a disaster zone, again. He is just settled morosely in bed amidst a cluttered sea of his haphazard possessions. It's the perfect stereotype of teenage angst. Perhaps drama is as drama does. STILL. :S

Meanwhile, amidst my ravings I have the bonkers/impossible schedule this week. Need to cram info for Exam 5 and then turn around and review for the final that occurs on the very next day. I was planning to review more this weekend, but it got away from me. I was also so tired. I am so tired. Urrghh.
star_swan: (Default)
Who got 49/50 on the last lecture exam? This person, right here!!! YES. I think that I did well on the lab bit too so that's a great big boost from like 88-89% overall to a solidly, safe "A". We are about halfway through the exams, grading wise though more than halfway through the course. I am so so pleased right now. I am currently leaping ahead since I pretty much have the blood vessels down. We are being lectured on Lymphatic/Immune/Respiratory on Monday, but that's a quite a bit considering that we have yet another exam on Tuesday so I am actually starting early.

Here is a comment that I made on the latest and greatest chapter by Shiso:

"There's this wonderful unspoken connection (again) between them sort of like breathing or the ocean. It feels like there is distance there of a sort, but not really since there is this great, big something connecting them at all times. (I think of water because, well, emotions, but also because it feels like that to me. ) The right swell could come along and just suddenly push one of them back into the other's orbit."

It felt like a bit of a babble, but she really liked it and I like the image the more that I think about it. It got me thinking in other ways. Several of her responses did actually, about life and people. I think that we are all floating in the same whateveritis, something, some substance akin to water or perhaps like a cross between water and light, a form of energy, a medium that we all inhabit/share/cohabitate. Some are farther away, off in seas separated by great watery expanses (that could have proper names if this was about some odd, interstitial geography), but inevitably connected nevertheless, the people we love, strongly dislike, don't particularly like or dislike, and the ones that we know nothing about. And I like that. I like that I am connected to everyone, even people whom I would perhaps choose to not be around. They deserve a space and they have it just by being part of the human race.
Of course, it makes me also ponder the other thing, that there are people whom I like, who I am related to, or what have you that I am also connected to no matter how far away they may appear to be. It gives me hope. It could be a bonkers only child thing, seeing connections by virtue of being the observer, of knowing solitude and not being either ashamed, insecure, or especially bothered by it as a concept and as a practice when necessary.
Sure, I desire a social life a bit more scintillating than the one that I've got at present, but I can go out into the world and do things myself on my own and derive pleasure from it. I can sit in a cafe or a shop and watch other people and not think, "Well, gee I should have just stayed home rather than venture out with no one else to do it with" cause this is what a lot of people do, sadly. It's like they need permission to go out alone, like it's somehow odd or embarrassing. It might just be a smaller town thing. I suspect that in highly urban areas, folks are less reticent about going out alone, more confident which makes them seem usual so that it sort of normalizes itself. And, yo, people watching.

Done! ...with the chapter on lymph/immune. I am going to do the Respiratory tomorrow and then review the set. I cannot imagine that he is going to include all that much from this latest stuff seeing as we will scarcely have the time to go over it in any detail.

Colin was singing in the shower last night at one in the flipping morning. I think that I partially surfaced for a moment, long enough to wonder, "Can I hear singing?" and then I fell deeper into sleep. Apparently he kept people up... He said that it made him feel less uneasy. Aww, he's afraid of the dark. <3 He said that it was taking his mind off the potential for psycho killers to randomly get him in the shower. :S

I could cure him of that. ;D

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I was promised tea

April 2017

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about me

I'm a mad translator with a degree in Comp Lit and assorted languages. Writing a novel and studying violin. (The story has been flailing along for the past couple of years. I think that the Scrivener research file is larger than the actual text.)

I live with a rather naughty ginger cat. Is there any other kind?

I love tea, loose leaf teas, teas in sachets, all sorts of teas and COFFEE. The more legally, addictive stimulants, the merrier!

Music and books are my life. I basically live in a closet-sized library with a container garden. I occasionally sleep. <3

ivybellis ------> star_swan

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