The theremin and other musical topics.
8:09 p.m.
There is good news, though. First, I got my period. While this ushers in other unpleasantnesses, at least the black cloud adorning my brow has gone off until the next bout of perimenopausal PMS. Second, the chat room is once again operational. It’s empty, but it’s working. Third, my son comes home tonight for a few days. I don’t think we’ll see very much of him as he plans on partying with his friends, but it’ll be nice to have him around for a bit before he has to get the bus back early Sunday morning.
The piano piece that the CBC commissioned my husband to write is being premiered next Tuesday in Toronto and I have agreed to go with him. This means driving all day Tuesday for a concert at 8 p.m., partying down with any members of his family who show up, plus my mother (if she comes) and our son, then leaving early the next morning and driving back so that I can make it to the first writing group of the season at 7 p.m.. All this for a six-minute piece. It hardly seems worth it, especially since the commission was a pittance.
I still don’t know who my students are.
My daughter has become enamoured with the theremin. She was watching YouTube videos of various ladies performing on it, and I was entranced. What a weird, wonderful instrument. It sounds a lot like the human voice, but so much more disturbing. The technique used for playing it is also captivating. Very graceful, like dancing with your fingers in air. This is the only instrument you can’t get callouses, blisters or lip burns from. Little Princess wants one. I just don’t know if I could stand to be around her practising it.
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