choral warmups are invariably the same.
last night I had a sort of impromptu-audition before my first rehearsal with the Jacksonville Symphony Chorus. it was more than I expected, and less than it should have been. surprisingly enough, they told me I was in, and here I am, in my third Symphonic Choir in 12 years. Michigan, Indiana, Florida: perhaps I should have a goal to sing in all 50. I sat on the front row in the seat that my friends Anne and Jean held for me. they drove me to rehearsal. Jean dropped a not-so-subtle hint that she'd like to attend my winging. despite everything, it seems that everywhere I go people are determined to like me. I frequently stand amazed.
I sit, in the afternoon afterwards, drinking a dubbel, listening to WTTS online and thinking about everything from the price of apartments in Anacortes, WA to the recent destruction in Haiti. I listened to Wyclef Jean last night on CNN talk about his home. it seems despite the distances, the money, the fame, the heart lingers on.
last night my mother warmed up in Indianapolis with the ISC as I sat, transitioning a half-step over sixteen counts just as I used to do with her in the north. the internet brings these sounds of bloomington and the circle streaming to me. location seems to have less and less to do with place.
in so much, I am blessed. present in this present with a skype-fly-on-the-wall to NOLA, texting to Denver, planning to rock the Casbah with friends that in a year will be a thousand miles from me.
under it all, the beat rolls on.
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