Operation Spokane; Post 1: Piano Withdrawals

The days are hot and dry. At least I'm no black dog, eh Neumes? The "office" is stacked with boxes Jess and I fished out of the dumpster of Borders. She made color-coded labels. Took things to Goodwill...

Let's face it folks! I've got serious Piano Withdrawals! It just hits you when you want to try and poke out that first, movie-theme theme from Prokofiev's first piano concerto -- BAM! no piano in the corner. Or you want to feel out the compositional process on some Sibelius compositions you're working on -- BAM, BAM! no piano! The corner is stacked with boxes from the kitchen that say "fragile". All you remember are the four Russian men hoisting it out of the door and down the stairs into the back of a truck like that Laurel and Hardy flick, except successful and in color and not quite as funny...
You know, I bet Charles Rosen has some wonderful insights into the part of the pianist that pines and weeps for the touch and sound of the ol' ivories. Kalberg too. It's just ironic then that all my books are stowed away in one of several coffee boxes (also from Borders, thank you!) without a trace. That must by why I've been to The Almost Perfect Bookstore so often this last week. Why not buy Leaves of Grass or a Spanish/English dictionary? Porqúe? Yo no sé...

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Plough me deep, great Lord, heavenly husbandman, that my being may be a tilled field, the roots of grace spreading far and wide, until thou alone art seen in me, thy beauty golden like summer harvest, thy fruitfulness as autumn plenty.

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