I'm listening to a WGBH broadcast on which I sang a few years back. I was into some pretty serious early music at the time and, even though I was super busy into my DMA coursework, it was really nice just to take a few nights out of a month and sing Josquin with some amazing musicians. There's a wonderful camaraderie among early music nerds. We already accept that people think we're weird for liking plagal cadences or cross relations or weird things like antiquated French. Knowing that from the outset, we really let loose and indulge those crunchy suspensions and cling to those weird metric modulations by the skin of our teeth. I frequently think about one of my old colleagues, Carolann. She was an unquestionable force of singing and had the best instincts about phrasing and exactly how to lean into a pitch and how to pull away from it with incredible style and panache. Carolann lives in Princeton now and, I suspect, is thrilling another congregation with her Hildegard. If my life had taken a different turn, I would have pursued early music as a field of study. Instead, I'm an opera singer. Weird.
I did a crazy thing today. I told my mother I'm running in the Boston half marathon this October. Now that's the funny part, isnt' it? It's not so much crazy that I'm running the half marathon, it's that I told my mother about it. She promptly pronounced me insane, told me that I must wear my heart monitor every step of the way so that my heart doesn't "go crazy" and also told me that I must not attempt anything "heroic." Hunny and I were talking at the gym - what exactly would constitute something "heroic" along the way? At mile marker 9, will there be dragon-slaying? Does the city have the right permits for that?
Fish tacos for dinner tonight. Very excited.
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