The concert went until ten-thirty, which made me really glad that the next day was a holiday.
Since the eleventh was Remembrance Day, I didn't have class. Like last year, I went to the service at the Fredericton Cenotaph. Except this time I went with several people from the university residence where I live. And we left a lot earlier than I did last year--this time around I had a much better view. And it was just as moving. I'm about as close to understanding why we have to fight each other as I was ten years ago. In other words: I just don't get it.
Afterwards we went to Tim Horton's (I got a cheese croissant. I've had flakier.) and then back to the residence, where we made French toast with Beth (vice-president) and Aaron (hall proctor). I hadn't had French toast in several years, but it was worth the wait: this stuff was good (I topped it with margarine and maple syrup--the real stuff that comes from a tree).
I'm thinking very seriously about going to Dance Fredericton's performance of The Nutcracker on December eighth. I'll go to the matinée performance at two. This will be my first time seeing the ballet since I was five, and my first time seeing it in Canada (the other three times were at UMaine-Machias and the Maine Center for the Arts, all with the Robinson Ballet Company, though the MCA performance had live music by the Bangor Symphony Orchestra. I still dream of seeing it one more time with the RBC and the BSO.). The performance is the week before assessment week, but since my time-management skills are much better than they were this time last year, I don't think I'd have any problems with taking in the magic that is The Nutcracker. Though I will have to resist the urge to hum along because I know the music so well now.
Part one of the Nutcracker Suite, performed by the Berlin Philharmonic, Seiji Ozawa conducting (he's always fun to watch).
Last year, one of the things we did in Media Explorations (Graphics) was create book covers using a combination of collage done outside the computer and Photoshop. This week my Photoshop class is doing--guess what?--book covers. Our only limitations are A. they have to be tasteful (duh), B. they have to include a minimum of five layers, including text, C. we have to save them as PSD files, and D. we can't flatten the layers and said layers must be labelled (we lose marks if they aren't). Other than that we can do whatever the heck we want. That freedom is one of the things I love about my school: we're given a small list of requirements and then told to go crazy with it.
I'd been trying to come up with ideas for my cover since Friday, but I wasn't coming up with any images that I liked in Google's Images search engine. This afternoon I started to form an image in my head of a woman walking down an empty road (clichéd, no?). After looking around on Google, I started to find images that I liked. And because I play violin and can't play guitar to save my life (don't even ask me the names of the strings or where those notes are located on the piano), I decided that she'd have a violin slung on her back instead of the usual guitar.
|All of this was accomplished in about four hours this afternoon. I've still got a couple hours' worth of work to do on it before I'm finished.|
The BSO played a concert this afternoon and I wish I could've appearated to the Maine Center for the Arts because they played one of my favourite pieces: Dvorak's eighth symphony. They played it at my one and only concert on May twenty-first, 2006. It was one of those times where I went to the concert thinking that I only knew one piece on the program (in this case it was Saint-Saëns' Carnival of the Animals--or parts of it). But when they got to the Dvorak I recognized some of the melodies. Don't ask how--I just knew that I'd heard them somewhere. By the end I was in love with the piece. Thank you, BSO.
This video is dedicated to the musicians of the Bangor Symphony Orchestra (especially the violinists ;-) ).
PS In case you're wondering, my raisons d'etre are music, dance and photography, a.k.a. The Big Three.