Numbers, novels, and organ-playing nomads

Behold, many months have passed, and the moon hath waxed and grown thin, and summer hath come and departed*--and here much blogging!

In other words, I just realized how long it's been, and figured I should do something about it. Only trouble is, a lot's happened since I last blogged--guess I should start with the present, and work backwards.

Classes started today. Yes, I'm beginning my . . . how many is it now? . . . my thirteenth straight semester of college. My seventh straight year. However you want to look at it.

But--and this is a significant but--I'm only a part-time student this semester. I'm also living in Rivertown, which means a 10-minute drive to classes (instead of 45 minutes). Huge blessing--the commute was draining, and I'm not sure I could've kept it up another year. Of course, I now have an hour commute to my job . . . . it's 15 minutes from home, but in the opposite direction from Rivertown. It's a church job, though, so I only have to be there on Wednesdays and weekends--which means a long drive twice a week instead of 5 times. So I'm still semi-nomadic, but I'm expecting less stress.

Plus, I love the job. It's not perfect (what is?)--and there are a lot of things I wish I knew more about (conducting, for instance). But I'm learning a lot just being there--about music and people and churches and committees--and I know enough about music that I can teach them some things, and hopefully prepare them to carry on without me. (I'll graduate in a couple of years, and will need to move on. Probably to grad school. (Not even going to count those years right now . . . I don't want to think about it.))

Also, I've got a recital coming up--the projected date is February. Suite by a French Baroque guy named Clerembault; three Bach chorale preludes (including "Wachet auf"); and a couple of 20th-century pieces (also French). This means I actually have to practice, regularly and intensively; but it should be fun, too.

I kind of hate practicing. It's like writing: really hard to make yourself sit down and do it--but once you can play the piece (or once the scene starts working), there's nothing better in the world. The trouble is, there are lots of days when you can't play the piece, or your setting is hopelessly confusing, and you realize you have to ditch a good ten pages of your novel and come up with a completely new way to get your protagonist where she needs to be for the climax to work.

But it's worth it. So I'll be busy practicing, and revising, and maybe by February I'll have a readable novel to go along with my recital.

In other news, I just finished listening to David Byrne and Brian Eno's new album "Everything That Happens Will Happen Today." It's good stuff--and it's mostly responsible for this blog post, so I figured I should mention it. Plus, free streaming. Always a good.

Oh, and I'll try to post again before February. Lots of good summer stuff happened, and should be recorded for posterity. Or, you know, whoever actually reads this thing.


*At least, it's departed somewhere. Presumably. In these southern regions, it'll stick around another month at least.