Dear Reader:

Here we are at recital eve.   Forgive me for being distracted, won't you?   I actually had a student address me three times before he got my attention this morning.   I might have some things on my mind at the moment.    But, I have coasted into that highly focused, "let's do this" zone.    It's full of preternatural calm - like the kind that I imagine people feel just before they jump out of an airplane or bungee jump off of a bridge.   Tomorrow, I will go to yoga class, practice a few of the recital's most treacherous spots slowly and methodically and with ease, read a little, do a bit of treadmill action, and start getting ready.    I will eat healthy and sustaining foods slowly.   In fact, I'd just like to slow everything thing down because once my head notices that I am about ready to have a gazillion eyes on me tomorrow evening, my heart will start beating pretty darn fast.   Maybe if I am in slow motion all during the rest of the day, I'll fool myself!   :)


Here are the stats on today:

I did not check the scale today.   I don't need that right now.  Ignorance is bliss.

Total calories consumed:  1326
Total calories burned:  200 (32 minutes on the treadmill)

Breakfast:

Lunch at the caf - forgot to take a picture - distraction:  Pork barbecue sandwich, baked beans, frozen yogurt with strawberries

Dinner (taco salad):

Snack:  grapes, string cheese

In addition to being distracted, I have also been playing this little gem over and over - obsessively - in the car.   It's most effective when the weather is nice and you can have the windows down and just sing as loud as possible:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8hj7e_Mf1A

Well, dear reader, I think I'll brew myself a cup of tea, read some "Night Circus" and head to bed.   I know that I will do my very best tomorrow and that is all anyone could expect.   I am grateful to have this chance to commune with my audience and with Schubert, Ravel, and Piazzolla and with all of the lovely pianists that have played these pieces before me.   I'll send you out this evening with a couple of pages from a wonderful children's book that I found at a used bookstore several years before I had children:

These pages are from "A Winter Concert" by Yuko Takao

"beautiful, beautiful music..."

"The concert ended but the music did not."  (That one gets me every time!)

"It paved their pathways home."  

I hope music or art or poetry or the beauty of the natural world paves your way home, dear reader.

Thanks for reading!