I happened to be on the same train as my friend and fellow musician this morning and after meeting on the other side of the turn style, we went up the 66th St. subway stairs together. After walking half a block, a young voice got our attention, asking us if we went to Juilliard. No, my friend had, but we were headed to a rehearsal a block away. But that was enough. Her mother an orchestra teacher from Georgia, asked if her daughter could have a picture with us. She had beautiful red hair, and apparently plays the accordion and piano, and maybe sings. They were looking for an opera singer next, probably a bit harder to identify unless you have the right nose for those things.....
Across the street we entered the LDS Church on 65th St and made our way upstairs for our exciting rehearsal. The flute player has been smuggling coffee in for these morning rehearsals. We admire her self-assuredness, something unbreakable, neither capable of injury or sanctity, but unapologetically and transparently offering.
Rehearsal for 2.5 hours, cleaning things, understanding more of the piece and the people playing it, bringing greater clarity to the new work based on a beautiful children's book. And following that, a creative composition that will be created by the audience at the performance.
Strawberries, a walk to the edge of Central Park with a Brooklyn friend that I don't get to see enough (because it takes 1-2 hours to get to Brooklyn), and then a return home to pack and email potential participants in the next chapter of life. The boxes are piling up, the cabinets are opening, the closets are spilling out, the book shelves are becoming more vacant and lonely.
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