March 31st, 2015


una mañana de plata

In school, like every Tuesday -except the next three or four. A piano in the middle distance, the wind howling outside, the clock on the wall says 7:05 am instead of 8:05 and it feels exactly like that, like I needed one hour more sleep.

Tried to comment on a post by sfred on how unusual the positive response she had to her querying the binary gender field in a Quaker meeting form (if I understood that correctly) and out came that O2 page 'you cannot go to that site unless you prove that you're an adult, click here....' and of course clicking there does nothing. Funny thing, getting virtually ID'd at this point in life. And of course it would be trivial for O2 to unblock that sort of thing when they approve your contract, which states clearly exactly how ancient I am. I suppose they have to protect the children, or something, by not letting me access a livejournal comment page....

A little more reconciled with last Thursday's concert in that I'd been watching the videos (thanks again, augeas!) of the gig and I don't find my playing too cringeworthy (although every piece has a big clanger at least that makes me go 'but why did I do that...'). I ought to have a little gig like that every week instead of every three months, mind. I only feel I get a programme right in public when I've played it four or five times, but it would seem like my pool of flavconcertgoers is rather small so it is time to change that programme. Will be playing only two pieces from a Bach suite in the first half, instead of a whole one, and completing the section by playing my teacher Jack Duarte's 'English Suite', which must be the only major work of his that I never studied with him but which is also much more ... approachable music than the Bach lute suites. More light Venezuelan pieces/songs in the second half, too, but also keeping 'La Catedral' by Barrios (and will try to remember I'd put it in the programme...). Onwards and upwards, one hopes.

As years go by

Yesterday I went to Camden Market for the first time in, oh, a long time. It gets more hectic and less alternative as time goes by with lots of clones of shops selling the same tat. There even was a unit in the main Stables market selling a well known sports shoe brand (that doesn't need me advertising them, says I). Full of zombie tourists, even on a Monday when half the shops used to not bother opening ten years ago. The street food market by the canal is now a seven-day-a-week affair. Stopped by a Colombian stall, had an empanada, the attendant turned out to be Italian, he turned to his colleague in the Peruvian stall next door for change -and this one, too, was Italian. Authenticity at all costs, some things never change after all.

I don't think I'll be going very often; too hectic, too little of interest. Shame, I used to love the place