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A Poem for All Saints Day- sometimes I cannot always be there
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.