Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Just Call Me..."Smokin' Fingers"

Do birds share their birdhouses?
Have you ever seen a Senior Cat be miffed at the introduction of a New Kitty?
You know how sometimes when you have two goldfish so they can keep each other company they just swim around, bored with life, and somehow manage to avoid each other even in that little bowl?

Hmph. Today I wanted my own space. And...if I'm not a dunce at reading body language, so did Michael's mom. I wouldn't say the hackles were raised, no--but our personal space bubbles were a little more imposing than usual.

So I sat down at my harp. Mostly to look more useful than sitting down at the computer or the TV or my book.

I stumbled through a berceuse, which was not really depressing, but not really inspiring, either. The arpeggios just sounded like some maudlin soap opera.
So then I played Passacaille. But I think maybe I had some little anger issues? Because it was booming right from the start. And I LIKED it. >:) Too bad if the few people home thought I was strangulating the harp. It felt SO good.

And honestly, it was pretty beautiful. I have to admit. It felt pretty cool to let my fingers whoosh back and forth over the strings.

I finished with an uproarious slash of a chord (a HUGE one, reaching all across the harp).

And I didn't muffle.

My fingers smarted just a little. Whenever I play like this I have the image of a smoking gun in my mind--and sometimes I really do blow on my fingertips (my fervor is probably the reason they put me with the 300+peopled band that one year...surely the other harpist wasn't better than me? Oh no, I'm not bitter*).

The piece served its purpose. My homesickness, both for my own place and my childhood home, abated. For a while at least.

I miss the way my mom listened to me practice from her study. She'd comment once in a while (or sigh at the close of a song--very flattering). I also miss her hugs.

*yes I am. I conquered that Capriccio Espagnol cadenza! It was my dream to play it! And she played an altered version! On a smaller harp! With no passion! GAAAAAHHH!!!!! I still remember her flowery harp name. Olyvia Dellagardelle. Yeah.


  1. Heavens do I understand how you feel! We've lived with my parents now for 10 months. Early in my marriage we lived with my brother for two months. And in the middle of my marriage (the part where we actually had a great job and owned our own home), we had some friends and their two kids live with us for three months. There are just times you want your own space. And it is REALLY hard when you don't have any where that feels like your own. Especially when you feel like people are watching you and analyzing how lazy you are or how your kids watch too much TV or how you spend so many hours on the computer. [sigh] You are so lucky you play an instrument so you can try to blow off your anger on that. Maybe I should start practicing the piano and learn some really intense songs. :)

  2. Even if you didn't know how to play the piano, it could be exhilaratingly relieving to just pound out something..."modern." ;) I've done it. Oh dear, sounds like instrument abuse!
    I'm so glad I'm not alone! Phewf! A "jogging" buddy is always welcome!

  3. I miss hearing Mom's quiet reactions to my cello, and how sometimes I'd look up and she'd be in the doorway smiling or tearing up. :) I LOVE your little note by the asterisk. :D

  4. Qait, I'm glad you were able to vent your feelings in a way that was not harmful to anyone (or anything, I'm sure your harp will be fine), and I'm very glad that you can express how you were feeling. So normal. So understandable. Is this the first time you have felt this way, since not having your own place? If so, pretty remarkable. I understand how you feel; we had Pat's bro here for 8 months, and it is nice to feel like you have your own space and control over what goes on in your own home . . . and just be alone sometimes. I know you are making the best of the situation and that you're grateful to be where you are. It is a blessing, and you'll probably look back on the time with gratitude, and happiness that you could bond with Michael's family so much.


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