***stardust

Hrm. I'm bored. At school, on my early dismissal, an' nothin' to do...no point going home, either, cos I've jazz band in..oh, twenty minutes or so. Hrmmm.... seems there was somethin' I was gonna blog about the other day, and didn't....*pondering*...
U2 frickin' ROCKS. Larry's drums are awesome...love it... s'pose I *should* be focusing on Adam's bass today, but...ehrm...oh dear, yeah, we'll not go there just now... ;D
Just got back fom playing at the county office building with woodwind quintet (*and* the flute quintet/sextet, for part of it - Mead recruited me cos they needed another person...) So that was interesting...got me outta school, which's always good. And the building's *gorgeous*, and the sound in there is *wonderful*... The building's all gold and ornate and stuff inside..but not like, gaudy. Just...nice. The room we played in (and I sang in, few years back, with ensemble) was like, I dunno, maybe 50 foot square, at the end of the entryway... but above, it's open to the four floors above...the sound just goes up and echoes around everywhere and it's *wonderful*... Crazy, tho, I could actually *hear* my flute, an' it was even *loud*! ;) (Not as bad as at the airport, tho..that was nuts. We did "Steppin' Up to the Blues" as a warmup, as usual, and Mead had me do a solo. When either myself or the bass gets to solo there, he has everyone else play stop time - just on beat one, instead of on..most of the beats - so we can be heard. So it's like, SILENCE, except for me, my flute resounding through this huge airport lobby...it was...wow...great, but scary.)
Was crazy, tho, there was this crazy old guy there... we're up there playing, and this old-ish guy, with this *massive* white beard, comes in, he's got shorts on, socks pulled up to his knees, a baseball cap, some green shirt, I think...and he sits down, then scoots over and chats with the flute ensemble...then the rest of my quintet ('cept me, cos I had to play again) sat down when the flutes came up, the guy chatted with them...left a while later, saying we were great...it was very strange. They tell me he had on red nailpolish, too..which's just...odd... I mean, I'm not entirely prejudice against, say, homeless people, cos I know a lot of cases it's not they're fault. But the nailpolish...that's not right...and it was just weird...very strange.
..and this is frickin' *Rochester*, y'know? ..wow...
Oh yeah. And sight-reading at a performace? Not a good idea....! ..Flutes didn't have enough music, they were sight-reading trio music during band, doubling up on parts. Then Mead sent me in to paly with them, sight-reading, of course, so there'd be three parts doubled, 'stead of just two doubled and one solo, which'd be dumb. But they'd started before I got in there...so we're at the county office beuilding, being frickin' *taped* by channels 10 and 13, and we're sight-reading. And Tara and I are like, *not playing* parts---! I looked at her, I'm just like, I'm sight-reading here, this isn't even my group! ..it was bad...

*Ananda Daydream * 1:48 PM * *

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