can we just fast-forward two or three months, please?

I start my final(!!!!!!) semester tomorrow and am currently on the bus, en route to Halifax. I can't believe that there are now only four months left in my university career. Let's hope it's not quite as big a roller-coaster as last semester--I honestly don't know how much more I can take. I sure as heck don't want to sink as low as I did: despair is not an emotion that I want to feel again any time soon. But if I do, I've got a solid support system in place.

I've spent the break trying to unwind from what I went through this past semester, which has proven to be difficult (I always have to unclench my brain from the stresses of the semester, but usually it's just academic stress). But given what I went through between September and December, I'm not surprised. Still, I'd give anything to completely relax mentally for more than a night (Friday night was wonderful: I felt the calmest that I've felt since September).

For Nutcracker Weekend, I read the entire first violin part, which was thrilling, though I had a few moments where I didn't know where I was in the music, and I completely messed up the part where Clara and the prince arrive in the Land of Sweets and went back after finishing the Apotheosis and read it with the music again. This time I knew what I was doing and where I was in the music.

We spent a few days, including Christmas Day, in the dark due to the ice storm that hit the Maritimes and New England, which got to be a bit tedious (especially since my room turned into an icebox), though Christmas Eve was pretty nice, as I listened to MPBN radio's Christmas music programs on my pocket radio by the fire--we kept the dining room fireplace and the basement stove going 'round the clock, and every night I had the evening shift from when Mom went to bed until Tom came down to take over for me and sleep by the fireplace for the rest of the night--during the outage, he went to bed around 5:00 PM). By that point, I was properly warm (I'd been shivering most of that day even though I had on four layers from the waist up and two layers from the waist down plus socks and boot-style slippers--both fleece). I'll admit that I was disappointed that we couldn't have cinnamon buns on Christmas morning, though I made up for it by making them on the eve of my parents' wedding anniversary. Mom baked them for me the next morning, and they were worth the wait. At this point, I'm sick of Winter. Trond, if you happen to stumble across this blog, I want you to know that I'm jealous of you and your wife (visual artist Joan Siem). You two have the right idea, escaping to Galveston, TX (in addition to being the BSO's concertmaster, Trond conducts the Galveston Symphony).

The power came back on Boxing Day evening, and we all celebrated--and then disappeared behind our respective screens.

On Friday, I wrote a letter to the editor of the Saint Croix Courier (the local paper), thanking the line crews, many of whom were away from home over Christmas (NB Power called in reinforcements), and all of whom had to work in less-than-ideal conditions and at all hours of the day and night:

"Editor:
"I, like many of my fellow readers, wish to thank the line crews who worked through the holidays and in less-than-ideal conditions, giving up time with their families to get those of us who were without power back on the grid. THANK YOU!
"I admit to feelings of frustration toward the government, especially Alward's insensitive, out-of-touch 'hunker down' comment, and the realization on Christmas Eve that my family would be without our traditional Christmas morning breakfast of homemade cinnamon buns the next day was more than a bit disappointing (I like my routines). However, those feelings were dwarfed by the relief that Mom and I felt when we saw three power trucks go up the road on Boxing Day evening, and she and I waved and cheered even though we knew no one could see or hear us. When the lights came back on an hour later, the whole family celebrated.
"Again, THANK YOU, LINESMEN!
"Annapurna Moffatt"

I'll let you know if it gets published (if that happens, it should be in this week's paper)--maybe even with a JPEG of the Letters to the Editor section, as my family has a digital subscription in addition to the regular, hardcopy subscriptions to the Courier and Courier Weekend. I believe this is my first time writing a letter to the editor. Either way, it's exciting.

I got a cheap (for a conductor's score, anyway) copy of the score for The Nutcracker and spent the days after Christmas studying it, which kept me occupied during the remainder of the outage, and I've already made a handful of notes in it (because it's sheet music, and a lot of the sheet music that I already have is littered with Lynn's and my notes, I don't feel bad taking a pencil to my favourite ballet). My initial plan was to read the harp part, but along the way I ended up reading the other parts and studying how everything fits together. I read up to Drosselmeyer's entrance, which is the beginning of page ninety. I wanted to finish the galop before I left for Halifax so that I know exactly where I am when I come home for Reading Week. I also got a lot of recorded music (some in CD form and some from iTunes): Charlotte Church's first three EPs, a beautiful recording of Beethoven's Missa Solemnis and one of Trond's albums (Hika), which I want to get autographed the next time I go to a PBSO concert.

On Friday, Lynn emailed me an article from the New York Times about a photography documentary, and when I watched the trailer on YouTube (I couldn't watch it on the NYT site, as it just kept buffering), I had to share it with the rest of my readers: it's too awesome to keep to myself (I emailed the article to Tom as well). Thanks, Lynn!



Just like last year, the trip back to Halifax was an interesting one, as the bus was half-an-hour late leaving (boarding was right on schedule), due to the bus coming from Québec--which was one of the transfer buses at Moncton that would take those of us going to places in Nova Scotia the rest of the way (due to so many university students going back to school today, there were several buses covering that route, and because the bus from QC was filled to capacity there was a second bus following it)--being an hour late. When I transferred at Moncton, there were two or three buses covering the route between Moncton and Halifax, and I ended up on the same bus that I boarded in Fredericton.

Check out this video and article about the Robinson Ballet's production of The Nutcracker, which they perform around Maine every December. In Bangor (the performances that the feature talks about), they perform with the BSO. Look for a closeup of Lynn at the 1:16 mark--the piece the orchestra's playing is the Waltz of the Snowflakes from Act I, and due to Trond being in Galveston, she's in the concertmaster's seat (when he's in Maine, she sits in the chair to the concertmaster's left). Go violins!

the intensity's finally over

I'm home for a much-needed break.

Monday: Crunch time. I spent the day doing last-minute things, including printing photos for cards--one of which I wanted to give to the techs, as Jake, Alex and, to a lesser extent, Chris, had played a major role in helping me to survive the hell that I went through this semester. The card was half-thank-you card and half-happy holidays card.

I finally started packing that night.

Tuesday: More getting stuff done, including getting a stack of movies from the NSCAD Visual Resources Collection for the break and getting food for Thursday (otherwise I would've been stuck eating crap at Irvings). I treated myself to supper at Boston Pizza to celebrate surviving the semester, and that night I stayed up a little too late packing.

Wednesday: The longest day of the semester. I'll let my Facebook status from that evening do the talking: "[I'm] done for the semester and [have] been kicked out of the Photo Dept., as they closed at 6:00. I said good-bye to some friends who are graduating (one of whom is going back to RI), had some of the dept.'s goodies (including hot apple cider and cranberry juice with lemon), hung out, enjoyed watching the last minute dash, caught up with a former classmate, got hugs from at least four people, shared the story of my busy day with one of the techs [Alex]: I didn't know where we were starting today: in the classroom or at the place where the crit was?, went to the wrong campus as a result, met up with a classmate who also didn't know what was going on, found out where to go [we asked Jake, who was in The Cage at the time], trekked down to the correct campus [Port], was half-an-hour late to class as a result, [ran] back to the campus where I started [Granville] at noon, ordered lunch there and dropped off a holiday card to another tech [Jake, again]--it's for all three guys--grabbed lunch on the way out, [ran] back to the other campus, continued with the rest of the crits, was done about an hour and a half early, went back to [Granville] with a few friends--chatting with them the whole way--wished the daytime weekday security guard happy holidays, went to the Photo Dept., hung out there until close and talked with the aforementioned friend, said good-bye to both her and the tech who was on tonight [Alex] and headed to another location [the library] to catch up on FB and email and eat supper... **whew** And it's not over yet: when I get home tonight, I have to shower, finish my packing up to the last-minute stuff that'll get packed tomorrow, crash until 6:00 AM, get up, pack the last-minute stuff, get dressed, lug my stuff down to the elevator (keeping an eye out for my roommie's cats, one of whom likes to escape), call a cab, lug my stuff to the cab, go to the bus station, lug my stuff inside, lug it back out when my bus is announced, stow said stuff, hand them my ticket and--FINALLY--relax.

If you made it all the way to the end of this MASSIVE status update, CONGRATULATIONS!!!! #ChristmasBreak #lastdayofclass #finals"

A little bit later I posted, "I forgot to mention that according to Alex (classmate), I'll be known as the woman who brought rum cake to the final #APC crit (we had a potluck)."

I ended up setting my alarm for 5:45 AM, as I felt that 6:00 wouldn't give me enough time. I crashed at about 1:00 AM.

Thursday: Up and at 'em--way too early and with one heck of a massive sleep debt (due to Tuesday and Wednesday nights, I was missing about ten hours of sleep). I packed the last-minute stuff (including food), triple-checked my packing list, checked the temperature, got dressed, lugged my bags out into the hall one at a time, left a note for my roommie, locked the door, lugged my bags to the elevator (which is just two doors down from my apartment, the stairs being the other door), took the elevator down to the ground floor, lugged everything into the lobby, called a cab, lugged my stuff into the entryway, lugged it to the cab (which was extremely prompt, even for the company that I deal with), went to the bus station, lugged my stuff inside, put tags on the two bags that would be going under the bus, lugged my stuff back out, got my two non-carryon bags stowed underneath, chose a seat and--finally, after two days of non-stop gogogo--relaxed. I snoozed for a couple hours, read and checked the internet wherever possible (while Maritime Bus advertises that they have wifi on their buses, that isn't true for the entire fleet). Finally, the bus from Moncton (there's a transfer there) pulled into the terminal at Fredericton and I unloaded my stuff and looked for Mom's Highlander. I didn't see it, so I lugged my stuff into the terminal as it was far too cold to stay outside very long (welcome to New Brunswick). After lugging my stuff to a chair, I turned around--and there was Mom!

As usual, we talked all the way home. I was in bed by 12:30 that night, as I was incredibly tired.

Friday: I planned to get a bunch of stuff done, but as I was still exhausted and had a headache due to said exhaustion (those are the worst), I didn't do much.

I found out that day that December thirteenth, in addition to being Santa Lucia Day, is International Violin Day. Yes, apparently the violin has its own holiday--as it should. I celebrated by listening to the BSO and then dancing that night to some of my favourite violin pieces. For a belated celebration, here's one of my favourite pieces from The Nutcracker: the Coda. Holy sixteenth notes! Violinists who play this, I salute you! Ditto and double when it comes to sight-reading the sixteenth notes at full speed (which I just tried with the first violin part that I have in PDF format on my computer--see here).



For anyone who's curious, here's what the first violin part looks like for the Coda:

Saturday: I was almost back to normal, and Mom and I brought the tree into the house ahead of a major storm that was expected to hit that night.

That day was the first Met Opera radio broadcast where the MOO was conducted by James Levine in about two years. WELCOME BACK, MAESTRO! (BTW, the opera that day was Verdi's Falstaff.)



Sunday: Much of the day was devoted to making Mom's birthday supper (vegetarian pizza and carrot cake, both of which were delicious).

I discovered this song while listening to a radio station that I discovered yesterday, and which you can check out here. Many of the songs are in Norwegian, and the station itself is based in Norway.

This particular song is mostly in English--but with some Norwegian words thrown in to keep you on your toes. Click here for the lyrics.

Happy Holidays!

life, death and art

The countdown to the final day is in full swing.

Monday: I spent much of the day decompressing from the trip to Elsipogtog. Turns out, Laura and I had gone at the right time, as the protesters had another confrontation with SWN and the RCMP. This one wasn't as major as the one that grabbed headlines in October, thankfully.

I also had another meltdown related to what I've been going through this semester. I could feel it bubbling just under the surface after I read the thing that triggered said meltdown that morning. I waited until late that afternoon before talking with Jake and Alex about it--and crying. And Chris (another tech) now knows some of what I've been going through this semester. This time of year is busy for everyone, techs included, so I'm really thankful that they managed to find time to comfort me.

Tuesday: I had another appointment with Joan--my last for this semester. And I discussed the events of the previous day with her (it was one of those times where, yes, I had an appointment the next day--but I needed to talk with someone right then).

That day Mom told me that she wanted some of my photos from Elsipogtog for the Christmas newsletter. She also wondered why some people are pro-fracking, which I happily researched (see here and here).

Wednesday: Crit Day. I did really well and I'm proud of what I've accomplished this semester. To paraphrase Neil Gaiman: going through a hell that keeps recurring? Make good art. I'm going to deviate from talking about the crit to share this passage from that address with you guys because it's so awesome: "Fourthly, I hope you'll make mistakes. If you're making mistakes, it means you're out there doing something. And the mistakes in themselves can be useful. I once misspelled Caroline, in a letter, transposing the A and the O, and I thought, 'Coraline looks like a real name...'

"And remember that whatever discipline you are in, whether you are a musician or a photographer[!!!], a fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer, a designer, whatever you do you have one thing that's unique. You have the ability to make art.

"And for me, and for so many of the people I have known, that's been a lifesaver. The ultimate lifesaver. It gets you through good times and it gets you through the other ones.

"Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.

"Make good art.

"I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it's all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn't matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

"Make it on the good days too."



And now, back to the blog post.

While my crit went well, I had to rewrite part of the contextualizing statement. I was okay with that, though I'd planned to be done with the thing: once I'd gotten the final draft down to seven hundred and fifty words and was happy with it, I planned to never touch it again. Turns out, I had to dig it back out after all. I spent the afternoon rewriting the statement during the open studio.

Mom had told me that she and Tom were going to work on the annual Christmas newsletter the next day, so I chose photos from the Elsipogtog trip, edited them and wrote a couple hundred words on the experience. I sent everything that night.

Thursday: I worked on the statement and some other things that needed to get done, including getting some Christmas presents. Early that evening, I found out that Nelson Mandela had died and I emailed Mom with the news. She hadn't yet found out. As I was writing this on Saturday night, I was listening to CBC Music's Essential Classics channel and as I was writing about what happened on Thursday, the folks at CBC had Barber's Adagio on. I wanted to include something in this post to honour Mandela, and the Adagio is perfect. Thanks, CBC!



And this, from another wonderful human:



Friday: I didn't get a whole lot done, which I wasn't thrilled about. Though I managed to finish the contextualizing statement. That evening I went to an end-of-semester/birthday/some-classmates-are-done-this-semester-and-are-moving-away party. I was there during the first half of said party, while it was still fairly small and intimate. We played music on the host's (Greg, one of my classmates) turntable and iPad Mini and iPods from a couple of his friends. This was the first record that he put on. Also, I tried blueberry wine for the first time. I liked it and would happily have it again, but I was expecting more of a blueberry taste.

That day, SWN finally backed down. I wish I could go to Elsipogtog again just to give everyone involved with the protest a high five. However, the fight isn't over: SWN will be back. Some sources are saying in '15, others say they don't know when the company will try again.

Saturday: Saturday was the Met's first radio broadcast of the season: Verdi's Rigoletto, which was wonderful as always. I've missed the Met (and their wonderful orchestra, complete with a horn section that could give the BSO's violin section a run for its money when it comes to knocking peoples' socks off), so it was great to hear them again. Here's Questa o quella from act one (the Met's current production is set in Vegas in 1960):



I spent the day getting a bunch of things done.

Sunday: I worked on several things not related to school, including my packing list and a surprise for the techs, as I want to thank them for supporting me through this semester's bumps and scrapes.

Today marks ten years since my worst violin lesson ever. I hadn't practiced all week, and Lynn knew right away. It took her three tries to get me to tell the truth--the first time I don't think I really gave an answer, the second time I probably said something along the lines of "maybe...?," the third I admitted to what I'd done. I'll never forget her telling me that the lesson was a waste of money (hers don't come cheap, but they're so worth it as she's a really good teacher). And I'll never forget the times that I wanted to find a small corner in her house, curl up into a ball and sob--and the times that I came close to tears on the way home. Simply put, I was miserable. For the last few years, I've been suspicious that that lesson was an early sign of what would culminate in me quitting lessons in April 2004. I can't believe it's been ten years.

The next time I write, I'll be enjoying a much-needed and -deserved break at home. And a week after that is Nutcracker weekend for the BSO. Here's a version of the entire ballet that was performed as a concert (you read that right--no dancers were involved in this performance). My god! We're only two weeks away from Nutcracker weekend!!! **squeals**

thank you, Maurice

I grew up watching The Nutcracker. Specifically, the Bolshoi Ballet's production and the Pacific Northwest Ballet's production. And later on, the Balanchine (New York City Ballet) and Royal Ballet productions. The PNB's version was designed by Maurice Sendak.

Sendak died yesterday, after "suffering a stroke on Friday night." He was best known for Where the Wild Things Are, but I associate him more with his production of The Nutcracker, which premiered in December 1983. The Royal Ballet (which I saw for the first time a few years ago) and NYCB productions are the closest to my idea of a "perfect" Nutcracker, but early on I was heavily inspired by the PNB production. Particularly, the choreography in the Childrens' Galop and at the end of the Waltz of the Snowflakes. But also the costumes in the party scene, and it was then that I fell in love with empire waists (okay, the A&E/BBC Pride and Prejudice also had something to do with that). I also loved (and wanted) the costume that Clara wears post-transformation during the Journey to the Land of Snow--I still do, in fact.



It also scared me: at the end of the battle scene, a large tail suddenly appears on the right-hand side (I'm guessing it's the Rat King's). That thing scared the crap out of me every time when I was little (though it wasn't as bad as Von Rothbart in the Fonteyn/Nureyev version of Swan Lake, which I also grew up on). But that was one of the things that made Sendak Sendak: he knew that childhood isn't all rosy and pastel colours--there's some darkness mixed in, too. A lot of what makes us who we are as adults--good or bad--occurs in childhood, and he knew that. That's why he didn't shy away from creating things like Where the Wild Things Are, though other adults, wanting to preserve their childrens' innocence, disagreed.

Sendak's Nutcracker was intended to be truer to Hoffman's original story than a lot of productions out there. In the Hoffman tale, there's a story-within-a-story called The Hard Nut that Herr Drosselmeyer tells Clara when she's stuck in bed for several days due to the injuries she receives from the rats. It's about how the Nutcracker became the Nutcracker, and when Tchaikovsky wrote the ballet, he had to leave it out (probably because it would've made the ballet too complicated). However, Sendak added a piece just before Clara's dance with the Nutcracker. It tells the story-with-a-story, and is set to music from one of Mozart's operas (Mozart also appears as a bust on top of the Stahlbaums' toy cabinet). I didn't understand what that dance was about, or why it was added, until years later when I read an English translation of the Hoffman story, as Sendak talked about the story-within-a-story and his views on (to him) the oversimplification of the ballet in the introduction.

Thank you, Maurice, for making my own childhood that much more memorable, and for providing some of the inspiration for my dream Nutcracker.

drawing to a close

Earlier this week I wrote an open letter to the FVA Class of '11, which you can read here. I can't begin to say how much I sympathize with the FVAs right now: I know what it's like, as I was an FVA last year and will never forget it (and if I ever do, I'll hunt Adam down and beg him to do his worst to me because forgetting the FVA experience is not an option).

I'm gradually getting assignments done, and I'm glad I don't have to spend the weekend ploughing through the entire 2D design section of Launching the Imagination. Instead I have to write a couple of papers: a critical review for Communication for Visual Artists and a paper on Julia Margaret Cameron for Photo History (I also have to do a five-to-ten minute PowerPoint presentation based on the History paper). Both are relatively easy, though. I have a few other things to do, but I'll accomplish them at school starting on Monday.

This coming week will be a bit wacko: due to three of my teachers doing assessments this week instead of the week of the fifteenth (happy birthday Mom!!), I won't have class on Tuesday (though I'll go to school to work on stuff), Wednesday (though I have my assessment for Creativity in Photography in the afternoon), Thursday afternoon (Film and Darkroom Techniques and Photoshop: Tools and Techniques assessment), or Friday. Yow. The next week is the official assessment week, so I won't have any classes. I'll have assessments on Monday (Communication for Visual Artists), Tuesday afternoon (Lighting: Available Light and On-Camera FlashTech and Photographic Digital Imaging, which I could've done this coming week, but I want time to do the final assignments with as little stress as possible), and Thursday (History, though I don't know what time). And then I'll go home some point Thursday afternoon.

Yesterday I handed in my final Photoshop assignment, which was my entry for the Bridgestone Photo Contest (which, I believe, is worth twenty per cent of the final grade for that class). Drew printed the entries off yesterday afternoon on the studio's big Epson photo printer (he'll mail them on Monday). I'm really happy with my entry.

Also yesterday, I found out that the Met Opera Brass has released a new CD: Waltzes, Songs, and Festive Scenes, which I've asked my parents for. Check out the video--and prepare to have your socks knocked off. GO MOO FRENCH HORNS!!! (In a couple of clips you can even see my favourite hornist--at two minutes in and three minutes, three seconds in. The first time is a still photo, but the second time you get to see him in action--with a strong horn part to boot.)



Speaking of the Met Opera and the MOO, there are now exactly two weeks until the first radio broadcast of the season (Don Carlo by Verdi)--which also happens to be Nutcracker Weekend for the BSO. BRUBAKERS FOR THE WIN!!!!!! French horns! Violins! Favourite musicians (who happen to be siblings)! **swoons**

I also got my schedule for next year this week: I have no class on Mondays (YAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!), class all day Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and then one class on Friday afternoon. I'll be taking Lighting: Professional Lighting Studio, Photographic History: People, Representing Ideas, Professional Practice, Lab Techniques, Photoshop: Professional Techniques, and Design: Shaping Space. Here's to an awesome second semester for all of us (diploma students and FVAs alike)!

my raisons d'etre

The Ani DiFranco concert was amazing. Though Ani herself didn't come on until after the intermission, which bugged me. However, Melissa Ferrick was very funny and she's a good musician. Ani took tons of requests. I meant to request Little Plastic Castle, but didn't get around to it.

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).


Part two.


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.

the past three weeks

As I'm three weeks behind, I'll do my best to get caught up, but I don't know if I'll include everything simply because once again my life's been a whirlwind (college can do that to ya).

On the sixth the PBSO played a concert in St. Andrews and I went home specifically for that. As usual the concert was wonderful (though I wasn't a fan of the Lumberjack Song), but there was a surprise: I came away with a new favourite orchestra. That brings the number back up to three.

I also spent that weekend reading like crazy since I had a test in 2D Design the following Thursday and I needed to read four (looong) chapters. I don't think I did too badly on the test--at times, reading the book felt like a refresher.

The next week was assessment week. Originally it was supposed to be this past week, but they shuffled the schedule around so that the school year was one week shorter. As a result we had several history lectures that ended with a quiz (usually we're given a week to study). In most of my classes I did quite well, but my final project for Creative Process wasn't quite there. As I put it, "good, but..." I wasn't really happy with my final project for 2D Design, but it was one of those that I crammed in between doing other things.

Once my last class (Fashion Design) was over, even though I still had panel assessment, I went into Christmas break mode.

On Saturday I went to the Beaverbrook Art Gallery. Tom had told me that by the time I came back from break the French Impressionists exhibit would be over. Since NBCCD has corporate membership with the BAG, all students get in free with student ID. For the Impressionists exhibit it costs two dollars.

That afternoon I started my Christmas shopping--or tried to.

I also listened to the Met's first radio broadcast of the season (Il Trittico). When they played O mio babbino caro (see previous post) I burst into tears because the music was so beautiful and because I was finally listening to it in context.

On Sunday Liz and I went to the Regent Mall and did some Christmas shopping before going to see The Twilight Saga: New Moon. The movie was better than Twilight until the end, which was very abrupt.

That evening I made most of the cards that I planned to send.

The next day I continued my Christmas shopping and spent about four hours on my feet--without a break. But it was worth it because Mom's stocking is going to smell really good!

Wednesday was panel assessment, which was okay, but I wasn't very happy with the results. When I got home (via taxi because the windchill had dropped to an unbearable temperature--even when a large Vanilla White Hot Chocolate from Second Cup was included) I started packing, which I continued the next day.

Mom picked me up at MJC on Thursday. That evening I realized just how much I missed Tom's jokes, which are hilarious.

Yesterday I braved the windchill (again) and brought the tree that Mom had cut into the house after sawing several inches off the top and bottom. I spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon decorating it and was surprised when I was done at around two--last year I was at it all day. Then again, this year we had restrictions on what we could put on the tree since we don't know how Baxter will react to the whole thing. While I was decorating, he tried to climb the tree.

In the evening I wrapped presents and sorted out what would go under the tree and what would go into Mom's stocking.

Today I plan to listen to the Met's radio broadcast (Les Contes d'Hoffmann), read, finish the gingerbread cookies that I started last night, play the March from The Nutcracker at roughly the same time that the Bangor Symphony's playing it (break a string, Lynn and Molly!), and enjoy being with my parents--and try to get used to the fact that I don't have to leave on Monday!