Beethoven and Bauhaus

Thursday night was the symphony, which was just wonderful. It opened with Mozart’s overture from Don Giovanni. Not my favorite piece in his repertoire, but lovely and well executed. Next was Benjamin Britten’s Cello Symphony. Bleah. Not a fan. I have a few pieces by him, he’s always been extremely hit and miss for me, and almost always a miss. It’s just noodling to me, and I hate noodling. Virtuosity for its own sake bores me. The last piece was Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, which was absolutely transcendent. Best of all, I got to watch my Paramour listen to it, in all his composerly glory. Sigh. Speaking of dashing men, WMFH looked quite handsome and stylish in his vest and pocket watch. It’s always nice to see a man who can rock anachronistic fashion without looking cartoonish. It suits him well. Speaking of anachronisms, I was working a long, black Regency style dress, with my 6ft strand of pearls and a teal blue butterfly wrap. I think I looked pretty fly, however the only photo of me that turned out was taken at the last minute in the ladies room and I looked about as drunk as I was (I had one too many Cosmos with dinner. Oops). I had this fabulous Audrey Hepburn moment as my Paramour escorted me down the long staircase of the concert hall on his arm, both of us giggling and racing to get home and fall into each others arms. Of course, as we were leaving WMFH was asking if I was headed back from the big city to our bucolic neck of the woods (100 miles away), and I had to tell him I was staying at the Paramour’s house. That’s an awkward conversation, seeing as he knows I am married. I don’t want to be TMI, but at the same time I don’t want him thinking I am just randomly stepping out on my husband. I’d rather he thought I was a slut than bad wife. I am trying to figure out how I could casually explain the situation to him without it getting weird. Not that ultimately I owe him an explanation.
Me at the Symphony
Because nothing says “classy” like a drunken self-portrait taken in the Benaroya Hall ladies room during intermission. And, yes, I am standing up, not using the facilities.

Paramour at the symphony
I was teasing him about being my cicisbeo.

I spent the next day drunk from noon on, because he’s a bad influence and we are like a middle-aged Sid and Nancy. Cruising around Seattle with my Paramour, listening to 80s dance and goth music at top volume, and shopping for used books and records was the most fun I have had in years. It was one of those “born-again teenager” moments that is a bittersweet mixture of nostalgic and pathetic you only have when you are in your 40s. It was a sunny Friday afternoon, we had Siouxie and Ultravox on the radio, we had nowhere to go but where the wind carried us, we were in a state of obsessive infatuation, and we had the big city at our disposal for the rest of the day. We ended up later that night, drunk on the pier, waiting for the ferry, doing impersonations of Paul Lynde, singing New Order songs at the top of our lungs and waxing poetic about how young, goth, and beautiful we once were whilst intermittently manhandling each other in a fit of uncontrolled passion. Publicly not my best moment, but we were having a blast, and sometimes you just gotta say “fuck it”. Also, I learned that drinking and shopping don’t mix. I bought a book of post-war German poetry, a German-English dictionary, and for reasons I can’t quite fathom a Lawrence Welk album and an autographed album by Cleo Laine, who, to the best of my knowledge, only existed on The Muppet Show.

All in all, it was a heady, frolicsome, romantic, passionate, decadent, wonderful couple of days. France is not ready for us. School is out for the next week and a half, I need some rest for a few days, then it’s back to blogging etc.

Mozart’s Overture from Don Giovanni

Benjamin Britten’s Cello Symphony

Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony

Cleo Laine – He Was Beautiful (seemed appropriate…)

New Order – Age of Consent (the song we were singing at the pier)

Paul Lynde – The Best of Bewitched

Wild Men

Yesterday was the end of class for this quarter. Finals have been taken, papers have been written, everything has been handed in. Today I drive to my Paramour’s island and we will go to the symphony for Beethoven’s 5th (extra credit for the music class). WMFH will be there as well, so it should be an interesting evening. I am going to take the weekend off to catch my breath, but I plan of returning to blogging next week. In the meantime, enjoy this link:

Europe’s Wild Men: They become bears, stags, and devils. They evoke death but bestow fertile life. They live in the modern era, but they summon old traditions.

Leaving Eden

As I sit here, on a beautiful, sunny Pacific Northwest afternoon waiting for a ferry to take me from my Paramour’s island to the mainland, I think about how lucky I am. Sure, the first 30 years of my life were fraught with drama and strife, but in the last 10 or 15 years things have finally started coming together. I attribute some if this to having a deeper understanding of both myself and my spirituality. Sometimes I think people believe that prayer is like a karmic pez dispenser: insert prayer, out pops your hearts desire. When they don’t get what they want or something negative happens, they throw up their hands and decide the entire system is a sham.

I am a huge fan fan if Doctor Who. There was recently and episode where the Doctor meets his Tardis in human form. He complains to her that she was faulty in performing her duties. “You never took me where I wanted to go!”, he cried. “But I always took you where you needed to go.”, she replied. Whether or not you see the gods as being interventionists, or if you believe it is all just dumb luck, life has a way of handing you things as you need them, not as you want them. Sometimes, if you are very lucky, those moments happen at the same time.

So, as I sit here in the sun, waiting for a ship to take me from my Paramour’s island to the mainland, where I will take another ship from the mainland back to my husband, I think how very lucky I am at this moment to have both what I want and what I need. I can only hope to do right by both of these wonderful men in my life.

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The Interruption Continues

This month is shaping up to be a busy one. I have to drive the 102 miles to Seattle every weekend this month, on top of it being the last 3 weeks of school. Tomorrow I head south for a neurologist appointment, then spend the night with my Paramour (*le sigh*… but more on that later), next weekend Co-Priest and I are going to the Cascadia ADF Protogrove to celebrate Ostara. It will be nice to see how others do it for a change, since Co-Priest and I have been working in something of a vacuum here. The weekend after that I am attending a performance of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony with my Paramour for my music appreciation class.

The BIG news is that my Paramour (with no small assistance from my Best Friend) is taking me to France and Barcelona in May! Best Friend runs these amazing wine tours in the south of France, and I have been trying to figure out a way to go. I get to spend 10 days with my Paramour staying in a 12th century chateau in the south of France in Spring. Not only that, but my Best Friend, Co-Priest, and several other close friends will be there as well. Seriously, how completely blessed can I be? I am sad that Husband wasn’t interested in going, he is completely disenchanted with travel and doesn’t understand why he should leave the house when all of his stuff is here anyway.

Chateau d'Aragon
This is where we will be staying, Chateau d’Aragon.

Carcassonne
This is the nearest city, Carcassonne.

So now I am slammed with local travel and planning for global travel. Travel with MS requires HUGE amounts of planning. I need doctor’s notes, equipment, and medications. I need to plan for problems with security, figure out the best strategies for expending my energy… not to mention I will be sharing a bathroom with 3 boys when I get there. AND to top of the insanity, I will be coming back to the last week or so of school. THEN we have our grove’s Shakespearean Midsummer rite. So I apologize, the dry spell here will probably be ongoing for a while.

This is the only clip I could find of this Ab Fab episode, but imagine my trip will be a lot like this.

Da Da Da

Last night, the community college I am attending presented an evening of Dadaist, Futurist, and avant garde music, theater, and dance. I am completely in love with where I live, because #1. the local community college presented an evening of Dadaist, Futurist, and avant garde music, theater, and dance for crying out loud. #2. It was sold out. and #3. When WMFH performed John Cage’s ‘ 4’33” ‘ the audience sat with rapt attention and gave him a standing ovation at the end. They also performed “The First Celestial Adventure of Mr. Antipyrine, Fire Extinguisher” by Tristan Tzara, which was surprisingly well executed by the student actors. By far, the highlights of the evening for me (aside from WMFH’s oddly engaging John Cage cover) were the choir performing “Miniwanka” by R. Murray Schafer and the 2 separate interpretations of Paolo Buzzi’s “3nomio Voci Gorgo Distuzione”, which had to be seen to be believed. WMFH also performed György Ligeti’s “Poème symphonique” which involved 100 metronomes. It was impressive, but a little too short. Somebody at the college really knew their stuff, because I am relatively familiar with the Dadaists (less so with the Futurists) and there were obscure pieces that not only had I never heard of, I can’t even find on “teh interwebs” (I have to write a paper on this for class, much research is needed). All in all, it was a rousing success, and the audience was refreshingly receptive to it.

Miniwanka, performed by someone else. I really wish I could find a copy of the graphical sheet music they projected during the performance. It was beautiful.

György Ligeti’s “Poème symphonique”

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