Really. I can't figure it out.

Purity of purpose mingled with piss and cum. That flinty facade; that impossibly tender core that can never be revealed. I can't stop wondering about it as I continue along my solitary way, wishing I could connect instead of bouncing off the edges getting all bruised up.

I went to see a friend's work performed by Berkeley Symphony last week and as usual his work was great. How lucky when nice people get a share of the world's meagre stock of unusual talent.

But the venue was also very cool; four composers, each one gets about 40 minutes. Orchestra does a first-ever run-through of the piece, and it's pretty rough and chaotic; then the conductor and the composer work together to revise the score if necessary, fine-tune voicings, rhythmic interpretations, change marimba mallets; then they do a final performance that is recorded for the composer. The works were all pretty good but the open conversations were fascinating (and brutally useful for composers getting a grasp of how to notate ideas, much less develop them); and the final runthroughs breathtakingly better than the first. Like watching a Polaroid develop.

There's two more "open rehearsals" in the series, each with a fresh set of unheard compositions from the same four composers.

www.berkeleysymphony.org/progr...on.htm

Yesterday I was scolded by my kindergartener's teacher because we didn't get his homework back on time. Kindergarten! I didn't even know what to say to her. Some possibilities that came to mind:

a. WTF? he is learning to cut with scissors.
b. you should really be talking to my ex who has the boys on all the key homework days and truthfully can't even manage his own schedule, much less coordinate three different color-coded folders due on three separate days per child
c. aaagh, so tired.....

This eccentric orbit
shows us where the center lies
mine, and yours, then ours in tandem
We can pass it back and forth, like playing catch
with our bodies for the ball

Here's the windup, and the pitch
my pelvis forms the glove

Or perhaps a tetherball, with you the pole,
then I in turn, we snap it to and fro against the straining rope,
intensity and laughter cycling as in any children's game.

And like a child, I would happily
play this game all day.