Oddments

In search of story


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April 4.20: Coping

There’s magic in a daydream;

it conjures up a wish

and makes it seem achieved

though it’s only real-ish.

 I dream I’m leaning in

as far as I am able

amid the light and color

with my elbows on the table.

I add some blue-leg’d roosters

who don’t need social distance

and people without masks,

and I summon up resistance.

 

 

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

and to this bright cafe in pre-COVID Dusseldorf.

Family update, dear reader: my son is not worse and this is good!


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March 20.20

Happiness eludes

like so much airy dust,

but I can capture mine

contemplating proper crust.

With crackly definition

it tells you what’s inside;

before your tooth can crunch

your eye is satisfied.

Kudos to the bakers

who know how to finesse

the yeasty bubbling goo

into happiness.

 

 

More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg

for this tribute to happy things

and to la Madeleine, for baking them.

And thanks to blogger Susan Rushton

for yesterday’s heads-up about Happiness Day today.

This is not to make light of our worries,

dear reader,

but sometimes we need to add a little sugar

when the yeast won’t froth.

 


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January 17.20

You are right, dear reader: you have seen this little sighing bird before. In my last post.

He has been with me in a singular way. Allow me to take you back to the late 1940s, when I was in kindergarten and my mother was lobbying the highly-respected (read: tyrannical) piano teacher in our area, who didn’t take students before they could read. I was not consulted.

Mom won. I couldn’t read but I started lessons, and I spent the next several years in tearful plea to be allowed to quit. I hated my lessons and I hated practicing. Mom said I could quit after ten years. I remember the moment because one remembers when one’s blood runs cold.

At that ten-year mark everything changed because I had my first Liszt étude: Gnomenreigen. It was the beginning of my suspicion that Liszt had fifteen fingers. Two years later, my next Liszt étude: Un Sospiro, The Sigh. I played it well. Not brilliantly, but well.

I had two dreams as a pianist: to play the original Rhapsody in Blue and to play La Campanella, The Bells, another Liszt étude. I never accomplished the first. I could only approximate the second. Alas.

But I think about the eloquence of those études. A sigh. The bells. They are there in those magical acrobatics. And I marvel at the transcendent power of a grey image, a D flat, and, yes, a tyrannical piano teacher.


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December 31.19

My new year’s wish for you

is handsomely portrayed

upon this rosy wall

in sprightly accolade:

may dancing pigs attend you,

adventures fill your cup,

may loved ones sit beside you

wherever you sip and sup,

may your plates be heaped with kindness,

your spirit taste no hurt,

may laughter season your days,

may there always be dessert.

.

Wishing you a very happy new year, dear reader,

with muse and chocolate ever near.

Thank you for all encouragement and enlightenment in 2019!

And special new year’s thanks also

to photographer S.W. Berg for this splendid wall!