Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Sights and Sounds


I spotted this lily on my way home from the post office. This is untouched out of the camera (which I'd turned sideways to get the shot). More detail is in the large view.

This entry takes its title from John Dewey High School's wonderful cultural smorgasbord combining art exhibit and concert. As a member of the Concert Choir back in the early 70s, my involvement was more on the music end. (At one time I belonged to four choruses simultaneously: Concert Choir, Girls' Chorus, Pop Chorus, and New York's All-City Chorus. Illness forced me to drop the last of those, though I still remember singing "Just A Song At Twilight" (and the tune!) at my audition.)

"Sights and Sounds" program cover, Dec. 14 and 15, 1973

My singing continues, though in a different manner and at a different venue, and I've finally posted the latest of those performances (joined by storytelling and poetry), at eSnips....

Recording from Performers Circle on April 27, Part 1 (11:46, 14.8 MB): I followed up my usual extemporaneous a cappella singing with a telling of "One Summer's Day in 1999" (titles here and below link to text) and then my poem "Labor Intensive," since by that time I had recently discovered its reprinting in Prof. John K. Shank's "Jones Ironworks, Inc." (More on that is in this entry.)

Recording from Performers Circle on April 27: Encore (16:17, 20.5 MB): We were a small group that night, with not many signed up to perform, so we went for a second round. I've learned that I'm now known as the "Moose Lady," due to my telling back in February of my encounter with a moose (the text is in this entry; the recording is here). I told my audience that after this next performance I might be recast as the "Roach Lady," then proceeded to perform "A Night With Max."

(Every so often my emotions get the best of me, so I was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the end. It's difficult for me to control, but I blame it on perimenopause. I figure that if my mother could cry at Marx Brothers movies -- when the lovers were about to be separated or the theater closed down, or whatever subplot supported all the hijinks -- then I can feel sad over the death of a roach with whom I'd kept company for two hours in the middle of the night.)

The cactus patch near the post office has been budding and blossoming.

Flowering Cacti
Large view

Can compare with "Cactus 1" and "Cactus 2" from April 28.

I then aimed for a more isolated shot, not realizing that I was getting an in-flight bee in the bargain.

Zeroing In

The bee is near top center and can be seen even better in the large view.

On Friday night, Mary and I took an evening stroll and retraced a route we don't take too often in the dark. This time I had my tripod with me and set out to photograph the optical illusion we'd seen weeks ago.

Optical Illusion: Arch

Back then, we came upon what looked like an arch in the distance (far left, first of six images). Its shape reminded me of the arch in New York's Washington Square, which I had passed repeatedly while growing up (Over on Flickr, Checco has a night shot of that arch here). Or the Arc de Triomphe in Paris (where I haven't yet been).

I didn't remember seeing an arch in our neighborhood and figured we were looking at an optical illusion. The shapes started resolving themselves as we neared what was ultimately a palm tree (the "arch opening"), a streetlamp (the right edge of the "wall") and electrical wires (the "top" of the arch). The tree sank mostly out of sight as we descended a dip in the road and re-emerged as we climbed toward the top of a rise.

The illusion didn't seem quite so pronounced on Friday night, perhaps because the amount of foliage has increased (especially around the "arch"). Or maybe because I now knew what I was looking at. More detail is in the large view.

On Saturday night the Woodview Coffeehouse departed from its usual "first Friday night of the month" schedule so that it wouldn't conflict with the Gamble Rogers Folk Festival in St. Augustine. Woodview's feature this month was the extraordinary Amy Carol Webb. Several of her songs were so powerful that I wasn't the only one searching for something with which to wipe my cheeks. Other songs had us rollicking. And her spoken storytelling was just as riveting as her music.

Recording from Woodview Coffeehouse on May 12 (8:57, 11.3 MB): Woodview's format is first open mic/feature/second open mic. I was the last of three in the second open mic and so closed out the evening, again with extemporaneous a cappella singing, followed by a performance of "Retention Pond in C-Sharp Major."


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