Whither Do I Wander?

 

I am still absolutely loving the time I sit at the piano and try to play pieces that I played so very, very long ago. As I struggle though the songs, making one mistake after another, my fingers clumsy with age and no practice, I think of how much better I played when I was ten or eleven or twelve. Please understand- I was never any good. I had no illusions about that nor did my teacher (or my mother, for that matter) ever encourage any false belief in my abilities. And now I am absolutely certain that I have zero talent at playing music but somehow, it is still such a pleasure to try. After an hour though, I seem to lose focus and my mind wanders and my fingers stray onto the wrong notes even more and I know it is time to stop. 
But for that hour, I am doing something only for me. I would rather dig a ditch from here to Sacramento than allow anyone to listen to me. And I think of that frequently as I try to play- that anyone listening would die of the pain of my awkwardness, my sheer inability to create anything resembling pleasing sounds. 
I especially think of all the musicians I know and love and how they would shake their heads and never bring the subject up again out of their love and embarrassment for me. 
Still, somehow all of that does not interfere with my pleasure. I guess it's a little bit like a non-artist doing paint-by-number and getting enjoyment out of that, even though it is as far from actual art as... well, my playing is from music. 
One of the things that happens as I struggle through these songs is that a visceral memory of living in Roseland comes back to me. Different memories than my usual ones. My dreams, too, find me in Roseland, strangely enough often at the house of my best friend Lucille and why, I do not know. I don't recall her having anything to do with my piano  playing although it's possible that as I was doing my enforced daily practicing, I was thinking of her and her house and how I would so much rather be there with her, playing, than sitting at the piano in our living room, making the same mistakes over and over. 
Who knows? 
Not me. 

I had a go-to-town day today. Jessie and I met at a Goodwill and did a little shopping. She got a few things and so did I. I got a long sleeved purple T-shirt and a nice, very pale lilac sweater which, although made entirely of acrylic, is soft and will wash easily which is important in my life. Also warm, which is good because it's about to get a lot cooler here. And I can wear a sweater I got at Goodwill with my overalls and not feel the least worry about snagging it or staining it. These things are important to me these days. 

I made Jessie pose with a dress I found which I deemed to be the most hideous thing I saw there today. That may or may not have been true but it was pretty awful. 

I could not figure out what the fluorescent orange belt strip with metal studs in it was doing there. The knit of the fabric was actually fairly interesting. 

I rather admired it. But then, BUT THEN someone sewed that traffic officer vest material, that deer hunter's jacket fabric, that CAUTION! WET FLOORS pylon-colored piece of polyester around the waist and to add mysterious insult to blatant injury, added the studs. 

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Well, each to his or her own. Am I right? 

As Jessie and I shopped, we talked about just that- judging other people in their actions and decisions. It is hard not to do that sometimes but I know with all of my heart that I am the least qualified in the world to judge others. I don't just live in a glass house, I live in a glass world. We decided that it is honestly difficult sometimes to understand someone's actions when they disagree so strongly with something we hold to be absolutely unarguable. And I think that has a lot to do with it- the lack of an ability to understand. 

Sigh. 

And then we went to Chow Time and ate all the foods. From sushi and hot and sour soup (that truly is my favorite thing there) to shrimp, to all of the sweet, gooey chicken dishes with pineapple and sesame seeds and peppers and so forth, to spinach casserole (surprisingly delicious!), spring rolls, vegetable fried rice, those incredibly good green beans cooked in some sort of fragrant oil, to the utter heavenliness of crab rangoon which is what I always have for dessert. 

After that I went to Publix to pick up more things I know I will need for Thanksgiving and wandered the aisles looking for anything I would want if I might possibly care to eat again. 

I got to see my Lily and that was wonderful. 

Home again and sweet texts exchanged with the man. He will be home on Saturday. I do believe I will be quite happy to see him. 

Surprisingly, I am feeling a bit peckish and so I think I will go cook a small piece of salmon and make a salad. 

Can I say that the Senate is doing a good thing? 

Yes, of course I can. 

And I watched this today and I cried. Not only because it can happen and did happen but because it's still so hard. 

Bless him. Bless his coach and bless his teammates and bless all of those he is representing. He shouldn't have to. But he is. 

Love...Ms. Moon