Hotter still today, but nothing like Iraq, and no bullets; well, at least probably not nearly as many. And it will get hotter, and there will be more happy and sad news.
Still, we're getting on, and to whistle in the dark and light, it's more Pink Floyd for dictation and harmony in Theory today, this time Shine On You Crazy Diamond III from Wish You Were Here, the harmonic progression --
G: Gm7 Edim/G C F Gm Gm7 Edim/G Gm7 Eb D
i vio6 IV bVII i i7 vio6 i7 bVI V
-- with evocations of G dorian, and G natural- and harmonic- minor.
Then off we go to Marin, for general errands and finally dropping off that Bald Soprano Overture recording to Nora Lee at Marin Symphony.
On the way back, detouring up American Canyon Road, shocked to see that the trees above are gone (photos taken last November 17) -- what will become of us, came the question on bended knee?
And, OK, they were a scraggly bunch -- mostly non-native eucalypti and a lonely palm, but they deserved life and respect.
And what of the lonely house and lonely tree adjacent? Do the inanimate have rights?
Do we animate have rights communally to preserve open vistas against the crawl of sprawl?
Is the balance destined to slip away?
Do not the cumulative wisdoms of the world, sacred and secular, seem to hope that life can be more than eating and excreting? OK, so I'm pontificating a bit... a bit... more than a bit...
Yeah, a lot of fuss and bother over what many (most? most everyone?) would consider a "vacant" lot. Yet it can be seen as full of life, and even beyond that, some sort of serene, surreal, twisted whatever....
And, were it were ours, could we resist a quick sale for a life of artistic ease and production? Difficult question. "We poor people, I think in heaven we'll have to make the thunderbolts" -- or something to that effect.
Perhaps there's no stopping....
...no stopping. Won't write another requiem (aside from Aerial Requiem and An American Requiem -- does the latter have an opus number yet?), however, at least now. For the moment, will let the musical tree memorials in the hands of the eminently capable Alexis Alrich, who has been writing wonderful pieces on notions vegetative (the Arboreal Requiem? -- hmm): her lovely series of floral portraits, Fragile Forests, including California Oaks and one re East Asia.
For now, prepare third page of Triple Fugato of Vengeance section of Act V, Scene 1 Mice and Men. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Curley, but is that appropriate?
