Yes. In a way there is no such thing as practice. It's all real. It's all good. It's all glory to God.
L.L. Barkat
· 1 year ago
I love the real you. Each and every bit (well, okay, the sci fi is an acquired taste.)
And that poem. I somehow felt it expressed exactly the question of whom you play for here and how. Still, it was good to hear this particular you today.
Mark D. Roberts
· 1 year ago
Sweet. You are the gabcast man!
L.L. Barkat
· 1 year ago
Oh, and I loved your soapbox on the gabcast!!
spaghettipie
· 1 year ago
Loved that! Thanks so much for not only sharing the words but your voice. Hearing you read it was slightly different than reading it in my own head. You're the coolest. :)
Marcus
· 1 year ago
Shep, it's the same kind of compartmentalization that haunts people. We try to make divisions where there are none. Work the same, play the same, act the same, no matter what the context. God is always there.
L.L., thanks for getting me back on track. I actually thought about deleting the soapbox from the audio, but I was going for the "real me."
Mark, Gabcast isn't the best for podcasting a high quality show, but it's great for adding value and media to a blog. Thanks for dropping by!
spaghettipie, part of me thinks reading the poem forces the reader into a particular interpretation. On the other hand, a lot of people haven't been taught how to read poetry. So I try to include an audio file to demystify the form somewhat. (But I'm getting back on my soapbox...)
real live preacher
· 1 year ago
You're brave to post poetry. Very brave. That scares me so much I've only done it maybe three times. And you're good at it, so the bravery isn't going to come back and bite you.
;-)
Susan
· 1 year ago
I love the poem - and truthfully, it actually captures some of what I feel when I sit down at the piano, mine or anyone elses - so I know that you understand something of who I am. This is something I appreciate about poetry - it evokes a response in me that tells me that someone understands something about me and I can identify with another person, the poet.
Marcus
· 1 year ago
RLP, you are kind. It's funny, but I never think about it as being brave. It's just part of who I am. I really do enjoy reading and writing poetry all the time.
Amazing the number of poems that get written during a sermon (often in response to the sermon topic...)
Susan, I wish I could play the piano! For me, all forms of practice are the same. And all practice is performance. Or all performance is practice. Or all the world's a stage. Something like that.
Susan
· 1 year ago
1) I just read your comment - you are so bad baiting Ted like that (giggle)
2) I never, ever, thought of practice as the same as performance - they are so very different for me. Practice was, at some times, just a pain and something I didn't want to do. But there were times when I would just sit down and play when I had no clue what else to do with my life - oh wait, I still do that, just not as well these days. It soothed my soul and helped me sort things out without me ever knowing how. There were, and are, also times when practice - repetition to get something just right, is very satisfying. It's like a small problem I actually have some control over and can master - how sick is that?
Now performance - that made my knees shake - no joke - so badly that even as an adult I could push the pedal down and it would come up again because, as my mother would say, my knees were as weak as water.
As to the glare - when she's really angry - oh and she can be, it's almost a wicked looking caricature of the expression you see here. Like nothing else in life, teaching has given her great insight into her anger issues.
Marcus
· 1 year ago
Susan, what a wonderful comment! I agree that I rarely act like practice and performance are the same thing, but the only audience that matters is paying attention to both.
That doesn't mean I need to fret about my practice time. Or be lackadaisical about my performance time. I just need to keep my perspective directed upward no matter whether I'm writing a poem, a journal entry, a blog entry, or a blog comment.
God help me always be the same person doing the same thing.
spaghettipie
· 1 year ago
I don't feel forced into a particular interpretation. I enjoy hearing what (I think) is your interpretation and comparing it to mine . . .
All Comments
And that poem. I somehow felt it expressed exactly the question of whom you play for here and how. Still, it was good to hear this particular you today.
L.L., thanks for getting me back on track. I actually thought about deleting the soapbox from the audio, but I was going for the "real me."
Mark, Gabcast isn't the best for podcasting a high quality show, but it's great for adding value and media to a blog. Thanks for dropping by!
spaghettipie, part of me thinks reading the poem forces the reader into a particular interpretation. On the other hand, a lot of people haven't been taught how to read poetry. So I try to include an audio file to demystify the form somewhat. (But I'm getting back on my soapbox...)
;-)
Amazing the number of poems that get written during a sermon (often in response to the sermon topic...)
Susan, I wish I could play the piano! For me, all forms of practice are the same. And all practice is performance. Or all performance is practice. Or all the world's a stage. Something like that.
2) I never, ever, thought of practice as the same as performance - they are so very different for me. Practice was, at some times, just a pain and something I didn't want to do. But there were times when I would just sit down and play when I had no clue what else to do with my life - oh wait, I still do that, just not as well these days. It soothed my soul and helped me sort things out without me ever knowing how. There were, and are, also times when practice - repetition to get something just right, is very satisfying. It's like a small problem I actually have some control over and can master - how sick is that?
Now performance - that made my knees shake - no joke - so badly that even as an adult I could push the pedal down and it would come up again because, as my mother would say, my knees were as weak as water.
As to the glare - when she's really angry - oh and she can be, it's almost a wicked looking caricature of the expression you see here. Like nothing else in life, teaching has given her great insight into her anger issues.
That doesn't mean I need to fret about my practice time. Or be lackadaisical about my performance time. I just need to keep my perspective directed upward no matter whether I'm writing a poem, a journal entry, a blog entry, or a blog comment.
God help me always be the same person doing the same thing.